


in too deep

by darkdisrepair



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hailey needs a hug, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, References to Suicide, don't worry there's fluff too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 44,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkdisrepair/pseuds/darkdisrepair
Summary: hailey puts on a brave face, but she's falling apart. new york city doesn't help- in fact, it just about breaks her. her friends are there to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hailey Upton, Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton, Vanessa Rojas & Hailey Upton
Comments: 109
Kudos: 298





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i came up with this plot before i knew that tracy was guest starring on FBI. i'm happy she is, i've watched a few episodes from them and i really like those characters, but this plot doesn't fit their personalities in the slightest, just as an fyi.

The day after Gael was arrested, Vanessa woke up to the sound of her alarm as normal. For just a moment before she opened her eyes, she could forget everything that happened with the case. That didn't last long. Soon, she remembered the look of betrayal on Louis's face when he saw her in her bulletproof vest, and how he refused to look at her in the bullpen even as she poured out her soul to him.

She slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom, glancing briefly toward Hailey's bedroom door, which was closed.

Interesting. Hailey was almost always up by now, and was usually downstairs making toast by the time that Vanessa was finished getting ready in the bathroom. The few times that she wasn't usually indicated that she'd been caught up at the precinct, or that she was sick. But that only happened a total of three times. Vanessa brushed off the thoughts suddenly racing through her head. Her friend probably just slept in. It happened to everyone.

Even so, she couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her stomach.

When she'd finished getting ready, she headed downstairs. Normally, she headed straight to the kitchen, but today, she walked through the living room first. No Hailey there, or in the kitchen. Her sloth mug (a gift from Vanessa) was mostly empty on the counter, with dried coffee staining the inside. Vanessa didn't remember that being there before she went to bed...

She went over to the cupboard to retrieve the bread, pausing when a piece of paper tucked under the toaster caught her eye.

_Came in late last night, didn't want to wake you. Heading to NY for a bit. Car is all yours. Remember to water the plants. Stay safe, watch your six, don't redecorate without me. - H_

Since when did Hailey have connections in New York? Vanessa tried to remember if she'd ever talked about where her parents or family were living now, but all she could recall was a mention of Greektown, and something about one of her brothers living in Indianapolis, but that was it. 

It was probably fine. Hailey was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. 

Vanessa just didn't like how abrupt and unlike Hailey this was. 

How many times had she woken the blonde up in the middle of the night? At least ten, mostly out of clumsiness. And even though they didn't talk about it, ever, Vanessa _had_ been woken up by Hailey. Twice. Regardless, they were comfortable with each other by now, at least Vanessa thought so. So why was her roommate suddenly being so secretive?

Vanessa resumed her breakfast routine, pouring herself some orange juice (she wasn't the one with the patience for their tired old coffee maker) before sitting down at the counter. It felt weird being here without Hailey sitting next to her. It was too quiet, and frankly quite boring. Recently, they'd been watching an episode of _The Good Place_ every morning before work, but there was no way that Vanessa was about to move forward without her friend. So she sat there, her mind working a mile a minute. 

Something didn't feel right.

* * *

Voight assembled them all that same day, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set. "I'm sure all of you are aware of the absence today. Hailey has been put on loaner for the FBI for a few weeks. Just because I take measures for all of you does _not_ give you the authority or the responsibility of making those decisions for me. There are some lines that you cross that cannot be uncrossed, and I do not want _any_ of you straying into those waters. Let this be a message to all of you."

"That being said, we have another case."

And just like that, it was like Hailey had never been there. The group filled the duties she usually performed seemingly without much thought, even though Vanessa knew she wasn't the only one who kept staring at the empty chair across from Jay.

There was something missing in the precinct, like some of the warmth had been sucked out of the room. Ruzek and Atwater weren't trying to dump Hailey's pens all over her desk anymore, and Kim was definitely less chatty. 

Jay was hyper-fixated on the case, more than Vanessa had ever seen him, and she knew that it was because his partner wasn't there. He was probably the closest to Hailey, since they'd been partners for so long, and losing that connection even for a minute must be hard. 

Vanessa had never noticed before, but Hailey really did change the group. Even though she could get extremely intense and focused, she also (unexpectedly) one of the biggest goofballs in the unit. She was extremely attentive, with contagious amounts of energy, and impossible to stay angry at- pretty much a golden retriever. When she wasn't around, the whole group felt flat.

She couldn't help but wonder what Hailey had done to aggravate Voight. Clearly going to New York was not her choice. Part of Vanessa knew, in the back of her mind, that her roommate had probably had something to do with Gael's arrest. It seemed too convenient that patrol just _happened_ to catch someone as elusive as he was with three bricks in the trunk of his car.

The case took almost two days to resolve. They worked almost around the clock, rotating out to sleep, but no one left the building. Once they'd caught the person who'd been dealing contaminated cocaine, Vanessa was finally able to go home. Not that home was any better than the precinct lately. She could barely look at the photos of her and Hailey that sat on the bookshelf. 

After fixing herself a mug of hot chocolate, she sat on the couch and put in one of the Star Wars movies. Halfway through, she pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over her roommate's name. She stared at the screen for at least ten minutes, debating what she should say. Sending a meme, even though it would be on brand for them, seemed to impersonal. Writing a paragraph seemed too intrusive. Finally, she settled on something simpler.

_missing you a lot, roomie. stay safe._

_and thank you._

Her text went unread for at least a week, and even then, she didn't even get a reply for some time after that. 

**_miss you too._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> while the unit copes with hailey's absence, hailey faces her new job.

New York sucked.

Hailey kept reminding herself that she deserved this. She really did. She knew the implications of what she'd done, she knew the direction she was heading in. When she'd first joined Intelligence, she'd vowed that she would never become like Voight. She'd told herself that she had higher morals than that. But now she understood why Voight was the way he was. It was too easy to give into the loyalties and the emotions and try and protect the people she cared about. And she would do it all over again.

And yet she knew the fine line she was walking. But sitting in the FBI field office with a stack of data heavier than her was not the way she wanted to be reminded of her duty. Her first day she'd been introduced to Roscoe, an imposing, salt-and-pepper haired man with constant coffee breath, and the rest of his unit. Some of them were friendlier than others, but all of them, Hailey included, knew she wouldn't be there for long enough for friendships to matter. 

She was there to help them end one of the most notorious drug rings in the city, and remind herself of who she was. That was it.

Most of the time, she sat at her desk, comparing files upon files of evidence from previous cases, trying to find inconsistencies. Sometimes she would look up some old pod footage or body cam footage from past raids. 

The more time passed, the more she began to notice little things. Strange things. Even during surprise raids, the dealers always seemed to be prepared. Not just with the normal guns that they were known to carry, but with escape routes, cars, burner phones. Like they were expecting to have to go on the run. As if someone were tipping them off. 

Evidence continued to pile up on her desk. They wouldn't let her go with them into the field, which was understandable- she didn't know any of their customary signals or tactics, and would probably get in the way. 

Everything at the FBI was carefully logged. Every video she watched, every file she signed out, everywhere she went she swiped a lanyard with her name in it. When she needed to talk with a CI, someone had to approve it. They had a procedure for everything. The structure was far more rigid than it was in Chicago, but Hailey found herself relishing in that organization. When she'd been in Robbery Homicide, her unit had been similar- obnoxiously organized, but efficient.

Her shifts went on for what felt like forever, since she barely got to go out into the city and see action. When she did get the chance to go back to her Airbnb, though, she found that she was too exhausted to do anything but curl up on the couch and go to sleep. The mounting information she absorbed every day started invading her dreams, getting to the point that she started having more revelations about the case when she was sleeping than when she was actually awake. 

She could feel herself getting onto thinner and thinner ice the longer she stayed at the FBI. Even though she'd made some great contributions that resulted in key arrests, the more Hailey learned, the less she could ignore the problem at hand. 

Someone was definitely tipping the members of the drug ring off. Identifying who was starting to look more dangerous by the minute, because the more she looked, the more it looked like the informant was someone in the FBI. 

Specifically, Hailey was 97.5% sure that whoever kept leaking the information was someone from the unit that was chasing the drug ring in the first place. 

Coming in and helping them apprehend the members of the ring was one thing. Accusing federal agents of conspiracy against the government not even two weeks after she arrived wasn't going to be a good look for her. It certainly wasn't going to earn her any favors in New York, that was for sure. In order for people to actually believe her, or even start to believe her, Hailey knew that her case needed to be airtight. Unlike Intelligence, where they all trusted each other, no one here trusted her. 

At the same time, she couldn't just ignore the fact that someone was most likely getting paid (whether in drugs or cash) to tip off the ring before almost every raid. And she couldn't ignore the bodies that were continuing to add up, both from the NYPD and from the FBI. The failed busts weren't conflictless, after all. There were car chases and car crashes, bystanders caught in the cross fire, ambushed agents... the mole's hands weren't just dirty- they were bloody. 

Now when she got home, she spread her notes across the kitchen island, connecting new dots, tracing the drugs, finding what was missing. And every day, she tried to ignore the text alerts that kept growing on her phone- mostly from Jay and Kim, but some from Ruzek and Atwater, and one from Vanessa.

The only one she replied to was her roommate's. The others she didn't even read, knowing that if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from thinking of them, of home, of just how _tired_ she was.

* * *

On day fifteen, Hailey gathered up the papers she'd been accumulating into a file and brought it to Roscoe. 

"We need to talk," she said. She could feel the eyes of the other agents staring daggers at the back of her head. "Privately."

He gave her a strange look but ushered her into his office. Unlike Voight's, which was filled with some odds and ends, Roscoe's shelves were neatly organized, with not a paper or mug out of place. She sat in the leather chair across from him, her heart beating in her chest. She took a deep breath, willing her hands to steady themselves as she flipped open the folder.

"I've been looking at the evidence, and I think your unit has a problem," she said. Roscoe frowned. "I've been checking and double checking the videos and the data that your team has compiled, and there are important pieces missing. There are interactions on body cam footage that seem out of place. I've taken note of every instance where there's something amiss and compiled it into this file. There's only one explanation for all of this."

"What are you implying, detective?"

"I believe that your unit has a mole. I can't quite narrow down the suspects- I don't know your agents. I don't know your protocols, of what you take note of and what you don't. I have suspicions but nothing I can confirm without someone from the FBI who knows what they're looking at. Protocol dictates in this situation that I bring this to you, so I am hoping that you can fill in the blanks that I can't."

Roscoe folded his arms across his chest, not even looking down at the file. "You have some nerve, to come in here and accuse my agents of conspiring against the FBI. This seems awfully like the work of someone who wants an easy way back to her unit in Chicago."

"Sir, with all due respect, this is the only plausible situation I can find," Hailey responded, bristling at the accusation. "I will not go back to Chicago until this case is concluded, regardless of time. I'm dedicated to this case just as much as everyone else in your unit. I want to find the culprit as much as you do. I'm just asking that you consider that you may have someone whose motives are not entirely pure."

Roscoe pulled the file across the desk, paging briefly through the folder. "I'll take a look," he said finally. "Your work is appreciated, detective. But be careful where you tread. This isn't Intelligence. This is the FBI. You don't have free reign here. The informant, whoever they are, knows far more about this organization and you than you do about them."

"Understood."

"You're dismissed."

* * *

Hailey felt like she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Roscoe had her data, he knew what her suspicions were. She'd followed protocol exactly, double-checking and triple-checking every single shred of evidence she'd looked at before going to him. What he did with the file was out of her hands, but she knew that one way or another, things would be taken care of. 

She arrived back at the apartment, setting her bag down by the front door and pulling off her boots before heading to the kitchen. She'd barely had anything to eat these last few days- there was always new evidence to consider, or someone who wanted her to call a lawyer for them. After a few minutes of digging, Hailey found a lonely box of mac & cheese that she'd bought at the beginning of the week and pulled out a pot for the water.

While she waited for the water to boil, she checked her phone. One photo and one message from Kim.

Against her better judgement, she clicked open her messages.

The picture was of Jay, Ruzek, and Atwater, all crammed in her desk chair, each with a doughnut in his mouth. 

_**life isn't as sweet without ya. eating doughnuts to make up for it. come back soon and save me from the boys.** _

Hailey laughed a little, but closed out of the app and turn back to the stove to check the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of movement in the hallway leading toward the kitchen. She froze, but the apartment was quiet. As silently as possible, she slid open the nearest drawer, finding the handle of something before whirling around.

The knife barely left her hand before a heavy force slammed into her, knocking her to the floor,

She never had a chance. 

Whoever this was was at least a hundred pounds heavier than her, and stronger than her, despite the countless hours she spent keeping herself in shape. And they had the element of surprise. She hadn't even heard the door open. 

No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't get out from underneath her assailant, who wore all black, a ski mask pulled over his face. He had her body pinned to the ground with his legs, and her shoulder pressed into the floor with one arm. Hailey could barely breathe- the wind had been knocked out of her as soon as she'd hit the floor. 

She didn't know how long her attacker held her there on the ground, raining blow after blow onto her ribs and stomach. She was pretty sure she had at least dislocated her ribs, judging by the force of his punches and the burning heat creeping up her side. Her eyes scanned the floor even as he landed a particularly hard blow on her collarbone- her phone was still on the counter, the knife probably embedded in the kitchen wall, the water on the stove impossible to reach.

Then, as suddenly as her attacker arrived, he stopped, and leaned over Hailey, so close that she could smell his breath. "If you _ever_ try to go to _anyone_ about what you have found, I will come back here," he snarled, what little of his eyes she could see burning with a barely contained rage. "And if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you. Am I understood?"

Hailey spat in his face. 

He got up, and just as she moved to throw herself at him, he stomped down, hard, on her ribcage. 

She thought the pain before was bad, but this was so, so much worse. The worst part was hearing the crack, almost like a twig snapping, as her vision went white, and pain like lightning shot up her side. She swallowed the cry that threatened to escape her mouth, and forced herself to stand, clutching her side as she staggered to her feet. 

But her attacker was already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jay deals with work without hailey, with some help from kim

Hailey had been gone for fifteen days. Not like Jay was counting, though.

This was the longest the two of them had been apart since they'd met. Sure, there were holidays where they spent time with their families and occasionally one of them took a vacation somewhere. But that was never for long, since crime didn't stop for Christmas and both of them hated sitting around doing nothing. The worst part was that this time, it was out of both of their control.

He didn't resent Voight for sending her to New York. Like their sergeant, Jay had also noticed Hailey's changing moral compass. He was glad that someone finally acknowledged it and forced her to do something about it. He knew that deep down, Hailey knew that what she was doing was wrong- he saw it in her eyes. This was what she needed to get her head back on straight. They all knew it.

That didn't make this experience any better. 

He missed her. Really, truly missed her. 

He'd never realized how much he enjoyed being with her until she wasn't there. He missed pulling faces at her as she worked, and trying to toss post-it notes into her hood when she wasn't looking, and knocking shoulders with her while they took surveillance. He missed the soothing smell of vanilla that seemed to linger on her clothes, and her smile when he brought her coffee. 

It just wasn't the same when Hailey wasn't there. 

Voight said she'd be away for a couple weeks. Well, two weeks had gone by, and her desk chair stayed empty. Every time Jay came into work, his eyes always went to their two desks, but her coat was never on the back of her chair. 

So he threw himself into every case that landed before him. Solving them took a little longer, without Hailey to help connect the dots. Their unit had always been a collaborative one, and now that they were missing one of their links, the chain didn't work quite as well. But they were adjusting, even if work was a little more depressing than before.

He'd been tempted to call her so many times over the past two weeks. Every time they caught a break in a case, he'd pull up her contact information and just stare at her name, trying to gather up the courage to just press the dial button. But part of him knew that she didn't want him to call. She hadn't looked at any of his texts that he'd sent- and according to the others, her responses had been pretty much the same across the board. 

Most of the time, he just ended up staring at the photo of the two of them he'd set as her contact picture- he was carrying Hailey on his back, and her arms were wrapped around his neck, and she was laughing. 

It was Jay's favorite picture of them. He didn't remember when it was taken or who had taken it, but there was something about it that gave him a warm feeling inside his chest. 

"Jay."

He glanced up from his phone to see Kim staring at him from Hailey's chair. 

"Did we get a new case?"

Kim shook her head. "No, nothing yet. I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing."

"What, me? I'm fine," he said quickly. Almost too quickly.

"Come on, Jay, you've been moping around ever since Hailey left. She's going to come back, you know. She's not-"

_Not like Erin._ He knew the words that Kim just barely stopped herself from saying. He'd thought the same thing, reminding himself that Hailey was definitely not like Erin. She would never drop their partnership without telling him first, without saying goodbye. She hadn't said anything because this wasn't goodbye, it was just an interlude, of sorts.

Right?

"I know she's not."

Kim had the presence of mind to look a little embarrassed. "Good. She cares, you know? And she's going to come back."

"Are you trying to convince me, or are you trying to convince yourself? It looks more like you should tell that to yourself," Jay said, with more bite in his words than he'd intended. 

The brunette sighed. "Maybe it's both. But you looked like you needed a reminder. Hailey cares about us. She wouldn't just leave forever and not say anything. I think she's not saying anything because... because she's protecting herself. Voight sending her to New York couldn't have been easy, and the FBI doesn't mess around."

That sounded like something Hailey would do. 

"I'm worried about her," Jay confessed after several minutes passed without either of them saying anything. "I've got a weird feeling about this job. There's something going on that she's not letting us in on. I know she wants to protect everyone but not replying to _anything?_ That's not like her. Something's changed."

"I'm sure she's okay. Apparently she replied about a week ago to Vanessa, and she read a text I sent her today, so she's not dead, at least."

Jay frowned. "She's read your texts? She hasn't even looked at mine."

Kim blinked. "I'm sure she has her reasons. I've heard FBI working hours are terrible, maybe she just did the thing where you read the preview to the message but don't go and look at it, and then forgot, or maybe she was busy, or-"

He held up a hand. "You don't need to make me feel better, Kim, it's fine. Go back to your desk and resume your Fornite game."

"How do you even know about that?!"

"Hate to tell you, but everyone knows about it. We're police, our job is to observe people," Jay said, laughing at the new flush to Kim's face. "There are worse games to play. Don't even get me started on some of them..."

Embarrassed, but seemingly reassured, Kim went back to her desk, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts once again. He couldn't help but check his phone and glance at the top of the stairs one more time before going back to the case report that he was supposed to be working on. Still no sign of Hailey. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey's investigation heats up.

Hailey spent most of the night after the attack in the bathroom, in too much pain to do much of anything but lay on the cool tile and try to breathe. She knew that she really should go see a doctor, mostly because she could barely see straight every time she moved. It felt like there were tongues of fire running across her ribs. 

But she knew going to a doctor would mean nothing good- nothing good for her, or the case, or her friends. Telling them would make them worry, the doctors would ask questions she couldn't answer, and the FBI would get involved. And whoever did this would do something much, much worse than beat her up. 

She couldn't stop going over the attack in her mind. The memories were getting hazy now, eclipsed by the nauseating pain that washed over Hailey like waves, but she did remember some of it. She remembered turning around and seeing a tall, muscled form throw itself at her. She remembered throwing the knife on instinct, she remembered not having enough time to do much of anything but try not to fall.

As much as she hated to admit it, there was no way she could have won.

Worst of all, she remembered the relentless blows raining down on her. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't get out from underneath her attacker. She'd felt so trapped, so helpless. For a moment, she thought that she would die here, in this Airbnb. The thought was sobering. How long would it have taken for someone to notice? Two days? A week? 

Once the world stopped spinning around her, Hailey forced herself to stand, clutching her ribs as she made her way back to the kitchen. By now, her water was boiling, spilling over the pot and onto the stove. She flipped the gas off and sat down on the stool by the island, closing her eyes to steel herself before lifting the hem of her shirt just enough to see the mess of black and blue bruises forming on her pale skin. 

She dropped her shirt with a slow exhale, looking toward the stove without quite seeing it, her mind full of every thought imaginable but at the same time frozen.

The human side of her wanted to collapse on the couch and cry, sleep for an eternity, drink an entire bottle of whiskey, and take an obscene amount of painkillers, all at the same time. 

The police side of her mind wanted none of those things, and was instead cataloging every potential clue that it could think of. The brand of her attacker's boots, what their eyes looked like, what their breath smelled like...

Hailey was suddenly wide awake.

Their breath.

Her attacker's breath smelled like coffee.

Everything made sense now. Every scrap of evidence she hadn't been able to place before, every piece of body cam footage she'd watched... She thought Roscoe's input would help her solve the case. Instead, telling him had revealed just how deep the conspiracy went- to a commanding agent of the FBI, and all the way to Roscoe himself. 

"Shit."

How was she supposed to prove anything now that she'd revealed all of her information to the very person she'd been trying to apprehend?

* * *

It took Hailey three days to come up with a plan to get around Roscoe. 

Protocols at the FBI were tight, which was the main issue. Normally, in the case of a suspected mole, the agent would report the leak to their commanding agent, which Hailey did with disastrous results. That leading agent would then work the case up the chain of command and begin an formal investigation. But since Roscoe was the source of the problem, Hailey would have to get creative.

She knew she needed to get out of New York as quickly as possible. Roscoe kept shooting her dirty looks across the room. She guessed that if she gave him an excuse to fire her, or kill her, he would take it in a heartbeat. She needed to be extremely cautious about this.

There was one agent at the FBI that she did trust- a younger agent, named Dryden. He'd made an effort to talk to her, at least, and had given her tips on office protocol on day one. He seemed put together, and a bit of digging on Hailey's end revealed that he was as clean as a whistle. She'd seen nothing even remotely suspicious while she was working on the investigation. 

And she was running out of time. There was no way to be completely sure of anyone in this FBI unit, but she needed to have faith in someone. 

So she asked him out for coffee. He'd said yes almost instantly, looking almost too hopeful. 

They met in a quirky New York City coffee shop, and after a few minutes of the customary small talk, Hailey knew she couldn't put off her real purpose for the meeting any longer. 

"Dryden, as much as I enjoy your company, I have another purpose for bringing you here," she said, after steeling herself to be immediately shot. "I solved your case."

Dryden perked up immediately. "Are you serious? The drug ring case?"

"Yes, that," Hailey said impatiently. "I have significant evidence that the reason why your team has missed so many opportunities in this case is because someone's been tipping the members of the ring off. Someone from the FBI."

The dark haired agent leaned forward, across the table. "I thought so. I'd been thinking about it for ages, but every time I thought we were getting close, we'd arrest someone who seemed like they could be the reason. But something's always felt off. This investigation's felt rehearsed, almost. Like we're pawns in a game that we don't know we're playing. The others think so, too."

Hailey breathed out a sigh of relief. "I was worried I'd have to convince you."

"On the contrary, detective, I'm just relieved that someone from the outside feels the same as I've been feeling. Who's the informant? Roscoe?"

"How did you know?"

"Every time we transfer in someone, they always leave a few weeks in, no matter how much we like them. The only people who have the authority to remove people from the unit are people with Roscoe's clearance and higher, but most of them don't have time to bother with cases like this one. They're concentrated on the terrorist threats. I was starting to worry he'd gotten to you, when you showed up late the other day."

"Well, he did," Hailey said bitterly, lifting her sweater just enough that Dryden could see the extent of her bruising.

"Jesus. D-do you need anything? The hospital?"

She waved his concern away with one hand. "That's not what I'm here to talk about. There's not enough time for the hospital. I have a plan, I just need you to help me with it."

"I'm all ears."

* * *

The next day, Hailey sent an email to the Deputy Director of Criminal Investigations. 

_Deputy Director Winslow-_

_I am emailing to write you about my impending resignation from the unit, and submit a claim against one of your agents. I would like to meet with you as soon as possible to discuss, and am contacting you as this information is relevant to commanding agents within the unit._

_Detective Hailey Upton_

She received a response almost instantly.

_Detective Upton,_

_Come to my office at one o'clock._

_Deputy Director Winslow_

* * *

One o'clock arrived quickly. 

Hailey walked into the office as confidently as she could. No matter how many times she interrogated someone or presented evidence, there was a part of her that always dreaded meetings like these. She knew the stakes. 

But she needed to do this.

"Detective Upton, this is extremely unusual protocol for a situation like this-"

"Deputy Director Winslow, I do not want to seem like I am undermining your authority or abusing the system you have in place at the FBI, but I have significant evidence that Agent Gerald Roscoe has been leaking classified FBI intelligence to members of the New York City drug ring that your agents have been investigating for the past year. I asked to meet with you under this pretense because any other circumstance would alert him that you are aware of these allegations."

To her credit, the deputy director managed to keep her facial features in check. "Interesting."

Hailey slid a folder across the desk. It was different from the one she'd given Roscoe, but contained similar pieces of evidence. Thankfully she hadn't given Roscoe all of her research. "This is the evidence I've compiled from my time here. Agent Dryden will be sending his report to you as well, and corroborates every observation I have made in this file."

Winslow, unlike Roscoe, opened the file immediately, scanning the pages quickly. Her eyes grew narrower and narrower as she took in what Hailey had written. It took almost twenty minutes for her to read the entire folder- long enough that Hailey started to wonder if she should leave. Just as she was about to offer, Winslow looked up again.

"This is extremely thorough, and impressive. But there is nothing I can do about your claims until I have substantial evidence, and one that does not rely on evidence compiled by an outside member of the FBI. You understand how taking action against a member of our offices on accusations made by a temporary agent would appear."

Hailey wasn't surprised. "Of course I understand. And I know your protocols for this. Allegations are not enough. Seeing the bruises on my chest is not enough. I respect that. You need concrete evidence."

Winslow nodded. "That is our protocol, yes."

"Then I know how to get it for you. Roscoe attacked me where I was staying three days ago, and told me that if I reported anything, he would kill me. Here I am, reporting this to you. I made no attempts to hide this. I am sure he is reading my emails. Dryden is mentioning it in the bullpen in case he isn't. If I am right, and he is the mole who attacked me, then he will come to the apartment I'm staying at this evening and attempt to murder me."

"That is a very bold statement to make, detective."

"Coming here gives me no choice. What happens tonight will happen whether you interfere or not. I am giving you a chance to catch a dirty agent. This could be the only chance you get to catch him off-guard."

Winslow was quiet, toying with the pen on her desk. Then she nodded. "Agents I trust will bug your apartment this afternoon. They will wait for audio, visual, or verbal evidence signaling that the informant is indeed Roscoe. If at any point you realize that it is not Roscoe, or if your life becomes endangered, we will discuss an agreed-upon safe word. Use that word, and the agents will intervene."

Hailey made to leave. Just as she was about to open the door, Winslow stopped her. "Know this, detective- if you are wrong, you will find yourself on the other side of this investigation."

"I understand."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two days later, hailey returns home.

Vanessa opened the door to the apartment with a sigh, flipping the light on without looking. The entire unit spent almost the entire day parked in front of a bank, trying to convince an armed robber to release twelve hostages. She'd never realized just how delicate hostage situations could be until today. Even Voight walked on eggshells talking to the perpetrator, which was unsettling. 

Everything worked out in the end, after hours and hours of demands and promises, so many that Vanessa lost track of which ones were real and which ones Voight was just saying to pacify the gunman. Halstead and Atwater broke most of the hostages out of the bank without incident, and the rest were released after a long bout of negotiations.

She might not have done much of anything but aim a weapon today, but the tension in the parking lot was far more draining than running around chasing people. Things were easier on the streets. Less delicate.

She shut the door, her eyes scanning the living room out of habit, and falling on the maroon jacket draped over the end of the couch by the window. Instantly, she brightened, moving quickly through the hall and into the kitchen.

Sure enough, there sat Hailey, slumped over on the island counter, head buried in her arms, fast asleep. Vanessa gave her friend good look-over, taking in the way that the detective's sweatshirt seemed even looser on her now than it had almost three weeks ago, and her hair was falling out of her usually well maintained ponytail. 

She debated whether or not to wake Hailey up. She didn't look comfortable, hunched over on the stool like she was, but at the same time Vanessa could tell that she clearly needed the sleep. 

Eventually, she decided not to commit to either, and began going about her now normal evening routine, making herself a cup of decaf coffee and a bowl of ice cream. This week it was Neapolitan flavored, since she'd finished their previous carton of chocolate peanut butter. 

Hailey stirred at the sound of the freezer opening, eyes blinking blearily open. 

"Welcome back," Vanessa greeted with a warm smile, leaning against the counter. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Always the tone of surprise," Hailey mumbled, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "I do live here, you know."

"A girl can forget when her roommate abandons her for three weeks. Lucky for you, I didn't think you were an intruder when I came in, otherwise, you'd be dead meat." Vanessa kept her tone light, knowing that, when sleep-deprived, it was hard to tell if someone was being sarcastic or not. "How was New York?"

"Terrible. Is that strawberry ice cream?"

"Almost. Neapolitan," Vanessa tilted her bowl in Hailey's direction. "We ran out of chocolate peanut butter last week, sorry."

"You do know I'm allergic to strawberry," the blonde said, raising her eyebrow. 

Vanessa swallowed her spoonful of ice cream so quickly she almost choked. "Somehow that never made its way into conversation. I can run this out to the dumpster, or something-"

"No, it's fine, just don't feed it to me and wash your dishes, and I'll be fine."

"Sorry."

The two fell quiet after that. There was a newfound awkwardness between them that hadn't been there before. Even though they had nearly three weeks of subject matter to catch up on, neither of them knew how to talk about any of it. Finally, Vanessa cleared her throat. 

"Up for an episode of _The Good Place?_ I've been dying to catch up. I almost watched some without you, but I restrained myself."

"Sure."

Both of them moved toward the living room. It did not escape Vanessa's attention that Hailey moved uncharacteristically slowly, as if she were walking on eggshells. She'd always been eerily stealthy in her movement, but this was different. But Vanessa didn't comment on it. She just took up her normal seat on the side of the couch closest to the kitchen, while Hailey curled up on the opposite side of the couch, her back resting against the armrest.

Not ten minutes into the episode, Hailey fell asleep again, her coffee-filled sloth mug still cradled in her hands. Vanessa couldn't help smile at the sight, which was very reminiscent the pictures she saw sometimes of cats cuddled up into a blanket. She estimated when Hailey went to sleep and wrote the timestamp down on the pad of paper on the coffee table before settling in to finish the episode. 

When the credits started rolling, Vanessa rose from the couch and gently tugged the mug out of her friend's hands, setting it down on the side table before turning off the main light. She then found Hailey's phone, which was still sitting on the counter, and plugged it in before heading upstairs, leaving a lamp on, just in case.

* * *

Morning came quickly, but this time, Vanessa was awake before her alarm went off. At first she didn't know why she felt so energized, but then she remembered that Hailey was _home,_ finally, and things could finally start going back to normal. She rushed through her bathroom routine and hurried downstairs to find that Hailey was still asleep on the couch, having barely moved at all since the previous night.

A quick glance at the clock confirmed Vanessa's suspicions that it was already later than Hailey usually got up. Hesitantly, she knelt beside the couch and gently shook the blonde's shoulder. 

Hailey flinched like she'd been shocked, one hand grabbing Vanessa's hand faster than the Latina could pull away. "Hey, it's okay, it's just me."

"Vanessa? What's going on?"

"It's 7:15. If you're coming to work, you're usually up by now, so..." Vanessa trailed off, her eyes drawn to the white bandage wrapped around Hailey's wrist. The other girl pulled her hand away, tugging her sleeve down so that it covered her hand. 

"I have to write incident reports for the case I was working on in New York, so I'm not going in today," Hailey said, not looking at Vanessa, her eyes fixated on the kitchen. "Thank you for checking, and I'm sorry if I hurt your arm, it's just... I'm a little on edge."

"No big deal. It didn't hurt a bit. I was just going to make some toast, if you want some, or coffee? I also bought more orange juice while you were out, so there's some of that..." Vanessa already started moving toward the kitchen, not wanting to make the blonde feel crowded by her being there. "Just let me know, since I'm over here anyway."

"Anything's fine. I don't want to make you late."

"I won't be late, don't worry."

After waiting for a few minutes on coffee, Vanessa brought a new mug over to Hailey, swapping out the sloth mug (which now had somewhat sad looking old coffee in it) with a plain white one, instead. Hailey looked up at her and murmured her thanks before accepting the mug. A few minutes later, Vanessa brought some toast over, too.

"I can get up, you know," Hailey quipped as Vanessa handed her the plate.

"Can you blame a girl for missing her roommate?"

"No, I guess not. I missed you too. I'm sorry I didn't answer your texts much, I had a lot in my head. I knew if I talked to you I would just miss home more, so I just... didn't look."

"It's okay, I get it. I would've done the same thing."

The awkwardness between them seemed to have lessened a bit with a good night's sleep. A little color had returned to Hailey's cheeks, even though there were still deep shadows under her eyes and a stiffness to her posture that hadn't been there before. They both sipped the coffee in contented quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually Vanessa glanced at the clock.

"I've gotta go, but... call if you need me, okay? Anything. Don't be a stranger."

Hailey gave her a tired smile. "I won't. Promise."

Vanessa returned the grin before grabbing her keys out of the basket by the phone chargers and heading out the door. She drove to the precinct. For the first time in a while, she looked forward to the day ahead, knowing that there was someone to fill the silence of the apartment again. But even though she was thrilled that Hailey was back, she couldn't help but worry over the bandages around the detective's wrists and the red that was just barely visible on them. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the upstead i know you've been wanting :)
> 
> or, a reunion.

When Vanessa walked into the bullpen with a huge smile on her face, Jay knew in a heartbeat that Hailey was back. There was no other explanation for the new pep in Rojas's step other than her roommate's return. 

"She's back?" Ruzek echoed Jay's thoughts.

"Got in last night."

"And?"

Vanessa exhaled. "She seemed okay. Not great, but okay. She looked exhausted. We tried to watch an episode of _The Good Place_ last night and she fell asleep ten minutes in, so."

Jay couldn't keep from smiling a little at the thought. He was well aware of what a sleep-deprived Hailey was like. A year or two into their partnership, when it felt like both of their lives were falling apart, they'd agreed to have some kind of out-of-work get together every other week. The first time had felt more awkward than teenagers on their first date, but eventually, Jay found himself looking forward to their meetings. 

He refused to call them dates, because they weren't that.

It took four meetings for the seal that apparently kept Hailey from falling asleep in front of Jay to break. They'd tried to watch _Up_ after a particularly rough case and she'd been out before they'd even reached the halfway mark, even though Jay could tell that she really did want to watch the movie. 

He had a feeling that Hailey's sleep habits when she was chasing a case were worse than his, judging by how often she started going to sleep at her desk and in the middle of their get-togethers.

"And I think-"

"Guys, I have something you want to see," Voight said, striding from his office with a folder in his hand.

The entire rest of the day, Jay couldn't focus, no matter how much he tried. Every time he looked over at Hailey's desk a thrill ran through him. She was back. She'd come home, after all.

* * *

The day dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Despite Voight's initial excited tone, it turned out that all he really wanted them to do was reorganize their files and make sure that everything was in order. Apparently people from the department were coming to inspect every precinct. Jay was secretly a little glad that they weren't out on the streets chasing perps today. There was no way his head was in the game, and he knew it.

Then, at last, the time came for the unit to go home. He caught up to Rojas just as she was putting on her coat. "Do you think I could swing by your place?" he asked, as casually as he could.

She shrugged. "I'm not gonna be there, Atwater and I are going for drinks at Molly's, but sure. Want me to ask if she's still around?"

"That would be great, sure."

Rojas fired off a text before heading over to put her gun back in her gun locker. "She says she's there."

Jay nodded. "I appreciate it."

"Anytime."

He couldn't get out of the precinct fast enough after that. He shoved his gun back in his locker, grabbed his coat, and hurried downstairs, waving to Platt before getting into his car. 

Something caught his eye as he drove toward Hailey's apartment. He stopped briefly before heading back on his way, pulling up to the street not fifteen minutes after he'd left the station. 

If he was being honest, he was a little worried. Was she going to be happy to see him? Angry that he stopped by? He didn't even really know why he was here- they weren't really ones to make random social calls on each other. Would she think he was being clingy? 

The thoughts waged a war in his head for a least five minutes before he gathered up the courage to knock. 

The door opened a few seconds later to reveal his partner, dressed in loose sweatpants and fluffy socks. Jay held out the flowers he'd just bought from a vendor toward Hailey, trying not to let on that, for the first time in a while, he was _nervous_ about talking to her. "These are 'Welcome back to Chicago' flowers."

He was shocked when, instead of taking them, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. His first thought was _she smells nice._ His second, which worried him more, was that _she feels lighter._ His third realization, which shook him to the core, was that she was trembling. 

"Hailey," he breathed, drawing her in closer while also trying not to crush the flowers he still held in his hands. "Hails. Just breathe."

He felt her struggle to take a breath, felt it catch in her chest and come out more like a sob than anything, and his heart broke. 

He fought to stay calm, to not freak out. And as much as he desperately wanted to enjoy the feeling of finally holding her in his arms, worry gnawed at his gut. This wasn't at all what he expected when he came here. This wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for. She seemed... fragile. More fragile than he'd ever seen her, more fragile than he'd even imagined her being. She always seemed untouchable to Jay, like there was nothing that could ever tear her down.

But here, now, she was crumbling before his eyes. 

They stood there a long time before Hailey's breaths seemed to even out, and she finally pulled away, her eyes red and bloodshot. 

For the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to say to her. It was unfair, he realized, that she was always the one to pick him up after he fell apart, and he never returned the favor. He cycled through a hundred things to say before he landed on "I missed you."

She laughed, a little weakly, but it was a laugh, and Jay considered that a small victory. "I missed you, too, idiot."

He gave her a once-over, taking in how baggy her clothes were on her small frame, the dark circles under her eyes, and was suddenly _angry._ Angry at Voight, for sending her halfway across the country, angry at himself, for not coming sooner, angry at her, for being too good of a cop to see when a case was ruining her... But then he looked at her again, and his frustration faded as quickly as it had come. 

"Are you going to invite me in, or make me stand out here for the entire night?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey's not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning:  
> suicide is discussed, along with descriptions of an injury sustained that resembles a suicide attempt. please don't read if that kind of thing will hurt you.

Jay stayed for a few hours before heading back home. And as much as she had needed time with him, Hailey was a little glad he left. She could feel his eyes following her every step, and could practically hear the thoughts churning in his head, analyzing every move she made. She couldn't blame him- they were detectives, after all- but she realized now just how much it sucked to be on the receiving end of a cop's attention.

And she was just so tired of having to pretend.

What little sleep she'd been able to find was in no way beneficial. Either she couldn't sleep from the searing pain in her side or she couldn't stay asleep because the nightmares kept creeping in. 

It was a lose-lose situation. Sleep, and dream about the things she didn't want to think about anymore, or stay awake, and think about the memories anyway.

Once her report was finished, this would all be over. She would stop having to relive these past few days in excruciating detail, and could go back to her old job, with people she trusted and a home that she loved. 

That's what she kept telling herself.

After Jay left, she went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water under her face, trying not to look herself in the mirror, at the person she could barely recognize now. Instead, she turned her attention to the bandages on her arms, unraveling them with cautious fingers, slowly revealing two deep cuts, one on the inside each wrist. 

_"I told you not to tell anyone of what you'd found. You know what has to happen next, detective."_

Hailey shook her head, trying not to let herself be dragged back into those memories. She didn't want to think about it anymore. She rummaged around in her drawer for the cream she'd been given and tried to focus on applying it to the line of stitches that marred her pale skin. 

Once she'd finished, and rewrapped her wrists, she went back to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee, hoping that the bitterness would help her stay grounded.

But flashes of that night kept coming back to her.

_She felt slow. Like she was moving through water. Not the "things are happening so fast that time slows down" slow, but "my brain can't move my muscles the way they should" kind. The drugged kind._

_She'd been so careful. But not careful enough._

_"How did you know?" she asked, and was pleased to know that she could keep her words from slurring._

_"I have my ways."_

_He was moving closer to her now, and she tried to step away, but he caught a hold of her arm and she felt frozen. Helpless, even as he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants._

_She wondered vaguely if it was an FBI issued weapon, and if they would think to check it._

_"What did you do to me?"_

_"It's a tranquilizer of sorts. Self-made."_

_She remembered there was something she needed to do. Something important. Something she needed to stay awake for._

_Evidence._

_"Where did you learn that? From the FBI?"_

_"All agents learn the basics."_

_"So you_ are _an agent. Not just a hired hand, come to intimidate me."_

_"And here I was, thinking that you were smart, detective."_

_"Are you going to shoot me?"_

_"Depends on what you told them."_

_"I told them they had a mole in their ranks. That was it."_

_"Good. You've made things easy for me, detective. Who would have thought a little Chicago police officer could be so helpful?"_

_He set down his gun and went over to the drawers, pulling out the knife that Hailey had thrown at him the first time. She tried to stand but her legs felt like mush underneath her, and she fell to the ground._

Hailey's grip on her sloth mug was so tight her knuckles were turning white. 

_"And what about the part in the email about commanding officers?" he asked, as he stood over her on the ground, twirling the knife between his fingers._

_Hailey chose to ignore that question. She stared him straight in the eye. "Are you going to kill me?"_

_"Of course not!" he said, and laughed. The sound was eerie in the silence of the apartment. "No, you're going to be so overcome with guilt after fabricating evidence against a commanding officer within the FBI that you are going to kill yourself."_

_She could feel her conscious starting to fade, and fought to keep her eyes open. She was so close. He was starting to reveal things, things that she hadn't told him. "I never said I had evidence against a commanding officer in the email. How would you know? There are only a few people who know. Certainly not just any FBI agent in my unit-"_

_He didn't say anything, but there was a fury in his eyes as he knelt over her and pressed the knife blade down into the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist._

She felt cold, despite the warm coffee in her hands.

_"Unless you're one of the people I told," she said even as she felt hot, sticky blood running down her arm. "Not Winslow."_

_"I suppose you're not at dense as I thought."_

_Yes, he was definitely angry._

_"And Dryden is accounted for."_

_She was definitely slurring her words now, whether it was from the tranquilizer or blood loss, she wasn't sure. She guessed that the FBI agents on the other end of the wire were probably itching to swoop in and rescue her, but they'd promised-_

_"That leaves..."_

_She gasped as she felt the knife slice into her other wrist. She felt the fog creeping in and fought it. Not yet, she was so close. The name, what was it, she couldn't think-_

_"Agent Roscoe."_

_"Very good, Detective Upton. You're the only one to ever guess correctly."_

_And then he was putting the knife into her hand, and holding it up to her throat, and the lights above her were starting to blur. From what felt like a long way off, she could hear shouting, and a weird popping sound, and Dryden was there, pressing something soft onto her arm, hard-_

The sloth mug slipped out of her hands, shattering on the hardwood floor.

"Hailey?" And suddenly Vanessa was there, grabbing Hailey by the shoulders, and just as abruptly as it had begun, the memory ended, and she was yanked back to the present.

"I'm fine. Just burned myself by accident. I'll clean it up."

She headed to the closet before Vanessa could say anything else, and cleaned up both the mug and the coffee as quickly as she could, all the while trying to keep her hands from shaking.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey comes back to work at intelligence, kind of.
> 
> warning: continued talk about hailey's injury to her wrist, mentions of suicide

She'd missed Intelligence. That wasn't a new revelation. But she wasn't prepared for the wave emotions that washed over her when she stepped in the doors of the precinct and saw Platt for the first time in three weeks.

"Upton," Platt gave her a nod. "Come back with a New Yorker accent?"

"I don't think I was there long enough for that, unfortunately."

"Shame. Felt like you were gone long enough to us."

Hailey knew that was all that Platt was going to say on the matter, but she knew the desk officer well enough to be able to read between the lines. _Glad you're back._

"Voight's waiting for you, nobody else is here yet," Platt added as Hailey started up the stairs. She wasn't surprised at either detail. She'd gotten here early because she didn't want to make some kind of grand entrance, and she should have known that Voight would want to talk to her. 

"Thanks."

* * *

She stepped into Voight's office unsure of what to expect. The last time she'd been here was three weeks ago, when he'd unceremoniously sent her to New York without much of a warning. But she'd known that something was going to happen then- she could sense the tension even before he met with her. 

Now, she had no idea where the sergeant's headspace was. Was he still angry? 

"Hailey, I'm glad to see you up here," he said. He didn't hug her, which she was grateful for. "Have a seat."

She sat.

"Deputy Director Winslow sent over the file from the case you were on. She was very impressed, Hailey. Not many FBI agents, let alone Chicago police detectives, could find so many inconsistencies within all of that evidence and connect them together. Some people work on cases at the FBI for years and can still never do what you did."

"I did what I was told to do."

Voight leaned forward. "Not many agents would have had the courage to do what you did. Exposing Roscoe to the _deputy director_ of the FBI, and then putting yourself on the line to prove it? I can't think of many people in the world who would have the presence of mind to successfully extract a confession under such complex circumstances."

His voice softened a little bit. "I sent you to New York not because I didn't believe in your capabilities, but because I wanted to remind you that there is _always_ the right way to do things. You set this unit back on track when you joined. You were so unashamed of your morals, and we needed that. We still do. But I didn't bring you on this unit to make a cookie cutter detective. I picked you because we needed _you,_ as you were. As you are. What you did at the FBI- I don't think anyone else in this unit would have been able to pull it off. And you succeeded because you weren't trying to be me."

Hailey nodded.

"That being said, I have been advised by the FBI to keep you off the streets for at least two weeks. I understand you sustained some injuries during your time in New York."

"Sir-"

Voight held up a hand. "This is not a debate. I've seen the medical reports. Two weeks, and we'll reevaluate. You can work the bullpen and interrogate, but you are not going to be running around Chicago trying to catch criminals until your ribs are fulled healed. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

Voight motioned toward the door. "Then I believe you have some people who want to see you."

Sure enough, when Hailey looked out the glass, the entire unit was there, staring but trying not to look like they were staring. Hailey laughed a little and stood to leave the office.

"And Hailey? I'm glad you're back."

* * *

Hailey was thankful when none of them really made a big deal about her return. Atwater gave her an affectionate tug on her ponytail, Ruzek made sure to spill her pens all over her desk, and Burgess gave an update on her most recent Fornite adventures. Jay slid a cup of coffee across their desks with just a little smile, and Vanessa didn't say much of anything, since they'd just seen each other that morning.

Secretly, she was glad that Voight wasn't making her go into the field yet. Her ribs still burned, although the pain was a little duller than before. She knew that running would have sucked. 

It was almost like she'd never left. At the FBI, she'd always felt uncomfortable, like no matter what she was doing, she was doing it wrong. Here, she felt like she could relax and do her job the way she wanted to, like pick up files without writing her entire name and her police department down on a log sheet. 

It took forty-five minutes until they got a new case. 

While everyone else gathered their vests and guns, Hailey stayed behind, feeling weirdly more like a mother sending her children to school than a coworker. Even though she knew it was for the best, a part of her still longed for the rush of sprinting full-tilt down the street. Instead, she turned her attention to checking footage for any clues that could help the rest of the team chase down the person her team was chasing after.

When they got back, she already had the board assembled, and had at least three leads that she wanted to chase down. They tried to hide their smiles, but Hailey caught each of them in the act as she was talking to them. And she couldn't help but smile back in return, at least a little bit. 

This was where she belonged.

* * *

Jay walked into the locker room, intent on finding an umbrella before heading out to look for lunch. The weather this morning predicted a cloudless, sunny day, but the team found out the hard way this morning that the weather was definitely wrong, and it was raining. Usually the forecast was pretty accurate, but not today, leaving most everyone with the prospect of trying to get lunch in a torrential downpour.

He froze when he saw Hailey at the sink. She hadn't heard him come in, and was intently unwrapping a bandage from around her wrist. Jay caught a glimpse of a line of stitches running vertically down her wrist before she wheeled around, having caught sight of him in the mirror. 

"Hailey, what-"

"It's nothing," she said quickly, covering up her wrist with her sleeve. 

"It doesn't look like nothing."

He strode forward, taking her arm and turning it over in his hands, gently, even though his heart was beating a thousand times a minute. His mind was spinning. "Jesus, Hailey, what is this? Did you-"

She shook her head.

Jay's touch on her wrist was delicate as he traced over the feathered stitches, taking in just how deep the cut looked. She wouldn't look at him. "When did this happen? Who did this?" He desperately tried to remember if she'd been injured when they'd been trying to take down Gael, if he'd seen her wrist at all before she'd left...

"It happened in New York. I'm okay, Jay. It's just a scratch."

"Just a scratch? Hails, stop lying to yourself. This- this is-"

He'd seen injuries like this before. Deep, intentional cuts, ones that sliced through arteries and veins and-

"I'm okay. I promise."

Hailey still wouldn't meet his eye. She was fixated on her shoes, scuffing the ground with the toe of her boots. She looked small then, standing in front of Jay with one sleeve rolled up to her elbow, arm at her side with her palm still facing up. 

Jay wanted to punch something, someone. Whoever did this to her. But just as he was considering slamming his fist into the locker beside him, he caught a glimmer in Hailey's eyes, and he froze. Fear.

She was afraid of him. 

And then, all at once, his anger dissipated. He reached out and pulled her in, resting his chin on the top of her head, letting her familiar vanilla scent calm him and reassure him that yes, she was still there. "God, Hailey, if anything happened to you..."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things kind of return to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this odd life situation and this week's episode have really ignited my writing spark, can you tell?
> 
> will probably update less this weekend, but more will come during the week! stay tuned.

Over the next two weeks, Hailey started to realize that her routine since coming back was probably going to be her new normal. At night, she slept for fifteen minutes, wake up from a night mare (or in pain, whichever happened first), try and fall asleep for another thirty minutes or so, and repeat that cycle until it was late enough that she would be justified in getting up to go to the station. Once she was awake, she'd get dressed, head downstairs, make coffee, go into work, and try not to fall apart.

Easier said than done, but she was getting the hang of it. 

Once she was able to get back into field work, things were a little easier. There was something to focus on other than the memories creeping in the back of her mind or Jay's concerned glances from his desk. She had a purpose.

If anything, she felt more in tune with the rest of the unit than she'd ever been before. She felt energy humming through her veins every time she stepped out onto the pavement. She felt _free._ And everyone else could feel it, too. They were more in sync, more efficient. Their solve rate in Intelligence crept higher and higher the longer she was there.

And yet, she also felt like she was drowning.

It was so stupid, how she'd only known Roscoe for three weeks and yet he was continuing to ruin her life. He haunted her, both while she was sleeping and in her waking hours. Sometimes, standing in the kitchen, she'd imagine a figure standing behind her and whirl around only to be faced with empty air. She hated seeing the bruises on her chest every time she changed clothes, and hated the bandages on her wrists even more. 

But the stitches were out, and the purple on her ribs was starting to fade to a sickly green color instead. 

Even though Jay found out about that, too. One day Atwater gave Hailey one of his enthusiastic bear hugs, which would have been fine on any other occasion. But that time, the pain was so bad she could barely stand after he set her down. Jay was at her side in an instant. He'd insisted on seeing the extent of the damage, and almost punched Atwater when he saw the discoloration on Hailey's chest.

Atwater brought her a new mug after that, one shaped like a narwhal. She kept it in the break room instead of taking it home.

She was getting tired of being fussed over, even though she knew that they cared, a lot.

But things were fine. She felt better, even if she still wasn't sleeping. Her lack of sleep was more common than people thought. For most of the year, she was either not sleeping in order to solve a case, or not sleeping because of a case. The rare times where she was able to actually feel rested after going to sleep was (even though she would never admit it to anyone, even herself) when Jay was around. 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She blinked. 

"You were rubbing your wrist. You've been doing that lately, when something's bothering you," Jay explained. Hailey shrugged.

"Just thinking."

"About?'

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Got any new leads?"

Jay shook his head. "Nothing yet. I've been checking some of the footage again, but whoever this person is, they're smart. They know where not to look and what they need to do to evade capture."

"Professionals, then."

"Or well-read. I'm starting to think that this new string of murders is a lot more connected than we thought. There's not enough of a trail to trace, which implies that we have someone who's planning out every step. These don't strike me as crimes of passion."

Hailey nodded slowly. "And yet, the bodies are placed in public places. Places where they would definitely be found."

"And we already know that there's a distinct pattern to how these people are killed. We could be looking at a potential serial killer."

* * *

The next day- their day off- Jay and Hailey found themselves sprinting down Randolph Street, having just gotten an emergency call from one of the theaters that was close to where they'd gone to lunch. Hailey kept pace with Jay, even though she was much shorter than he was. Both of them had always been on the speedier end of the unit, since they were both light and fast. 

For the first time in a long time, Hailey barely even noticed the twinge in her ribs as she wove through the crowds of people just let out of the various theaters that lined the street. People seemed particularly eager to get out of the Chicago Theatre. She followed Jay as he pushed through the doors, ignoring the horrified sobs that came from the audience as they passed. 

"Where?" Jay shouted at one of the frantic looking ushers, who pointed them to a backstage door. 

Without hesitation, the two partners pushed through, speeding past the various sets, until suddenly they found themselves onstage, face-to-face with a scruffy looking man, with matted hair and patched clothes. He had a woman in a headlock. She looked to be one of the actors, judging by the heavy stage makeup and costume she wore.

"It's going to be alright," Hailey told her, looking her straight in the eye.

"Sir, put the weapon down."

"Stay back!" the man shouted, pulling the woman tighter to him. His eyes were wide. Hailey was almost sure he was high. "Don't come any closer."

"Alright, sir, we're not going to come any closer," Jay said. "Just let her go."

"What do you need? Food? Medicine? Drugs? We can get that for you if you just let her go," Hailey told the man, maintaining eye contact even as she slowly stepped closer and closer. 

It was an old trick- keep the subject's attention while getting close enough to deescalate the situation. 

Suddenly, the man tensed, tugging something out of his pocket and brandishing it in front of him like a sword, his eyes fixed on something behind Hailey. Jay spun around, gun at the ready, but it was only the theater security officer, his own weapon pointed at the man who now held a knife just a few inches from Hailey's chest.

_An icy cold blade, resting lightly on her skin-_

"Drop the weapon!" Hailey shouted. 

_Sticky warm blood, running down her arm like a river-_

The man was laughing now, his mouth wide open, showing his yellowed, rotting teeth, the knife steady in his grip even as Hailey's aim wavered-

_Breath that smelled like coffee whispering in her ear-_

And then the man was lunging at her, dropping the woman, his arms outstretched toward her-

Two pops, in quick succession, one from Jay's gun and one from Hailey's, filled the theater, echoing weirdly across the empty seats as red sprayed across the stage. One bullet struck the man in the chest, squarely, and the other splintered into the wood just inches past his head, sending gold shards flying. 

Hailey felt Jay's hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off, forcing her attention the sobbing woman on the floor and the dead man just past her, refusing to acknowledge that, for the first time in a long time, she had missed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath.

Hailey was spiraling.

Jay could see it in her face the moment the man pulled the knife on her. Her face went white, and her usually steady aim wavered. He chose not to comment on the fact that her shot had gone too high, so high that if she'd been alone, she would probably have had to engage the man in hand-to-hand combat. 

One disaster at a time, he reminded himself as he knelt beside the bloody body on the ground, checking for a pulse.

"50-21 George, shots fired by the police at the Chicago Theater. Offender down, non-emergency ambulance requested." 

Hailey was trying to console the woman and clearly losing. The woman was hysterical, screaming and sobbing, makeup running down her cheeks. "Oh my God," she kept repeating. "Oh my _God."_

"Ma'am, you're in shock, please try and take some deep breaths," Jay told her, putting a hand on her arm. "You're safe now. He's not going to hurt you. It's going to be alright."

They stayed there for a few minutes as they waited for the ambulance arrived. Once they gave their statements, they were free to leave, and walked out the doors of the theater. Jay caught Hailey's arm just as they were about to step out the doors.

"It was the knife, wasn't it."

It wasn't a question. Hailey looked away. 

"You know, for all the lecturing you give me about talking about my feelings, you hide more than I do." He couldn't keep the frustration creeping into his tone. "Have you seen anyone? A therapist? I know a good one."

"Can we not talk about this here?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Hailey, how many times have you been through this with me? I know you're struggling, and I don't blame you, but damn you for not letting me help, for not letting all of us help you! The longer you keep lying to yourself the more likely it is that you'll get yourself killed. If I hadn't been there today-"

"It was a fluke. A one-time thing."

"Hailey."

"You don't get to keep doing this. You can't protect me forever, Jay, I'm not a doll, I can handle myself. Just- just let me figure this out. I can do this."

"I'm not protecting you because I think you can't handle it, I'm doing this because I care about you! How hard is it for you to understand? You pick me up from my own self-pity monthly. Why won't you let me help you?"

"I'm fine," she said, but her voice wavered as she said it.

* * *

_She was floating through darkness, on a ship cutting through a surface that reminded her of still water. Everything was still, black, calm. She inhaled deeply, the cool air hitting her nose, smelling like the winter air, crisp and fresh and clean. She could stay here, wherever 'here' was, forever._

_Then she heard a dripping sound, steady and slow. Drip, drip, drip. She turned, squinting through the black, a new breeze blowing past her, carrying a faint smell, a new, heavy, dark smell. The waters around her weren't black anymore, but a rich brown, and the smell was getting stronger and stronger, sticking in her nose even as she pressed her face into her sleeve to try and get rid of it._

_She turned again and the water was a deep scarlet, bubbling over the sides of the boat, thick warm, splattering in her face, covering her hands. What was once a flat, tranquil sea become turbulent, churning with waves that rose high above her, terrifyingly smooth, before crashing overhead, throwing her across the deck of the ship, slamming into her with impossible force._

_She was drowning now, choking on the blood that smelled like coffee. She couldn't see, couldn't hear anything but a strange bubbling sound in her ears, and she couldn't breathe. The water, or whatever it was, was ice-cold in her veins, and she felt as though she were drinking shards of glass, or maybe knives, she wasn't sure anymore, and now she could see something, a shadow-_

"Hailey!"

And then she was pulled up through the water, and it wasn't blood that surrounded her, but soft blankets, and not a red river, but soft blue walls, and not the mask-wearing figure of her dreams, but Vanessa. 

"Just breathe. In and out."

But she couldn't. Every time she tried she felt it catch in her chest, like there was something pressing it down into her lungs, and the more she tried the heavier it got, until she was hyperventilating and the world started spinning around her-

"Hailey, it's okay, you're home, you're safe!" Vanessa sounded panicked, and Hailey knew she was the reason for it, and she really did want to breathe, but she _couldn't,_ and she was just so cold and so tired and the air kept getting caught in her throat and she just wanted it to be over.

Vanessa held up something to Hailey's face and she flinched, but then there was a voice, coming at her like it was underwater.

"Hailey?"

"Jay," she managed. 

There was a moment of calm then, one moment where she could catch her breath before she plunged back into that freezing water, and she felt like like she was drowning again. 

She didn't know how to stop it, couldn't remember how to breathe. She could her Jay talking to her, trying to get her to say something, but she kept hearing whispers just beyond her reach, and feeling a razor-thin blade press itself against her wrists, her throat, and every time she thought she suppressed those memories, more appeared, memories that smelled like beer and didn't whisper, but shout. Memories that called her _Hail-bear_ and not _Detective,_ where Converse sneakers flew through the air instead of knives.

She could barely see through the tears pooling in her eyes, and wiped them away, willing herself to calm down, but she couldn't, no matter how much she tried to latch onto the familiar cadence of Jay's voice. He kept getting washed away by the flashes that kept streaking across her thoughts, flashes of her mother trying to keep blood from dripping out of her nose, of her brother shoving her in a closet before turning to their father, armed only with his psychology textbook...

And she kept drowning, drowning, drowning.

And then something was holding her, drawing her in close, and she wrestled with whoever it was, her heart thudding in her chest, feeling just as trapped as she had just over two weeks ago, pinned to the hardwood floor of that New York City apartment, expecting at any moment a neverending flurry of blows, until she breathed in to scream and her nose was filled with the same fragrance she'd smelled on the boat in her dreams, fresh air and cool water. 

And then the waves stopped pulling her under, and she felt like she could breathe again, just a little better than before, the stench of coffee gone, the feeling of a coarse jacket pressing down on her arms replaced by softer fabric, a fabric that smelled like summer and winter all at once, that held her instead of suffocating her, anchoring her to present, rather than flooding her with the past. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please drop a comment! what moments do you want to see? 
> 
> also, am i the only one dying at the interview tracy gave? jay is hailey's everyday... ugh. they just are so soft for each other. glad we got some upstead content, even if it's kinda not!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some lines can't be uncrossed.

Jay spent the rest of the night propped awkwardly against the headboard of Hailey's bed, one arm wrapped tightly around his partner. He couldn't tell if she was dreaming now, or not. Her breathing had evened out about two hours after he'd arrived, but the trembling didn't stop until the sun started to peek through the blinds. Vanessa poked her head in the door only once, to give some sort of complicated hand signal that pretty much equated to 'called off work for you'. 

Tonight had been one of the most awful experiences he'd ever gone through. Somehow, seeing Hailey so broken, so lost, was worse than the bombs and the gunshot wounds and the hospitals. He would take a hundred bullets if it meant she would never suffer a nightmare like this one again. He would never forget the sound of her voice over the phone, small and fragile and unlike the fierce, witty Hailey he was used to.

Now, she seemed calmer. She'd moved around a lot at first, restless, before settling her head in Jay's lap. There was a crease to her forehead that still lingered that Jay longed to just wipe away with a finger, but he knew that would be overstepping.

Almost as soon as the clock hit 6:30, she stirred, huffing out a breath before opening her eyes, blinking confusedly as she took in her surroundings.

"Hey, Hails," Jay said. 

She stared up him, eyes still bleary, still not awake enough to push him away. 

If he could have stayed in that moment forever, he would. Before the trauma came back and before awkwardness set in, when they were just two people sharing a morning together.

But life didn't operate that way. 

He was just beginning to hope that she would at least acknowledge what had happened the night before when she suddenly slid out from under the covers and disappeared into the hallway, leaving Jay in her bedroom feeling almost like a shunned lover, but knowing that there was so much more to the night's events than something as simple as sex. 

* * *

If he thought the mornings after one-night stands were awful, this was a thousand times worse.

Vanessa going to work meant that he and Hailey were left in the apartment, alone, with no one to act as a buffer between them. They sat at the kitchen island in silence for nearly a half-hour. Jay noticed that Hailey avoided the carafe of coffee on the counter like the plague, so he did, too, instead cradling a glass of orange juice between his hands. 

"We need to talk," he said finally. "About last night."

She sighed, running a hand through her messy ponytail. "Of course," she said, the words coming out less aggressive than he knew she wanted them to be. Instead, they sounded defeated. Sad. 

"Panic attacks? Since when?"

"Since last night."

"Was it the knife?"

Hailey didn't meet his gaze, which was becoming a trend with her. 

"Hails, please, just talk to me," he begged. "Keeping it in isn't going to help you. How long have you been having dreams like this?"

"Since I got back. But never like this."

Jay shook his head. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Hailey."

"You think I want this, Jay?" Hailey was wide-awake now, her blue eyes flashing, and instantly Jay knew he'd said the wrong thing. "I've barely gotten four hours of sleep these past few weeks. I can't even drink coffee anymore, and every time I look at myself in the mirror I have to relive the memory of every single bruise that was put there. I've tried so hard to get out of it. Meditation, journaling, music- but none of it works. Don't lecture me."

"I'm just trying to help," he said, but the words sounded weak even to his own ears. "I've tried to help you so many times, but you keep pushing me away. What can I do to make this easier for you? I don't know what I'm doing. I can't just whip out some deep life advice at the drop of a pin and solve problems like you can."

"And you think I know what I'm doing?" 

"Clearly you must, because you're certainly not letting me help you!"

They were both shouting now, and all Jay could think was that he was glad that Rojas had left. 

There was a terrible silence after that, in which Jay wanted to take back everything he'd said, and then Hailey spoke again.

"I don't need your help," she said, and there was a new set to her jaw. 

"Fine."

"Fine."

He got up off his stool, retrieving his jacket from the floor, where he'd thrown it in the middle of the night. Hailey didn't try to stop him. He wished she would, wished she would say something, anything else. But she didn't, even as he walked to the door and pulled it open, even as the door clicked shut behind him.

The feeling in his stomach as he drove away was worse than what he'd felt when he realized Erin left. Because this time, he had just as much control as Hailey, if not more. He wasn't the one spiraling off the deep end, suffering from panic attacks every night. Deep down, he knew there was a time when he had been the one who needed to be pulled from the depths of his own mind, and he knew that he was driving away from the very person who had brought him out of it. 

At the same time, he recognized the fierce glint in her eye. She was determined to figure this out herself. And no matter how much she might _need_ his help, she didn't want it. She might never want it. She was far too independent and sure of herself to ever _want_ a man to come in and try and rescue her.

He wanted to be there for her, he really did. She did so much for him in the first few months of their partnership. She'd fixed cracks that he didn't even know were forming, and stayed by him even while others started to doubt. 

But he kept replaying her words in his mind, and they stung more than he wanted them to. 

_"I don't need your help."_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's easier to make mistakes than fix them.
> 
> or, hailey and jay are stubborn.

Hailey usually loved coming to work. She loved the puzzle-like challenges of solving cases and the thrill of chasing down criminals. Most of all, she liked the unit. They were like family to her. They probably knew her better, in all truth, since she spent every day with them and just a few days every few months with her actual family. Especially Jay.

But ever since their argument, things were different. Stilted. She'd regretted her words as soon as they'd come out of her mouth. She hadn't meant it to be like this. She _needed_ him, needed him like fire needed air.

The realization hit her the moment the door shut behind Jay. 

But it was too late. Ever since then, there was a strangeness between them. He flinched away whenever their shoulders brushed, sat across from her instead of next to her at Molly's... and yet, he still brought her a drink every morning, but chai instead of coffee. 

And she hated him for it. She hated that even though she _hurt_ him, he still noticed. She wished he would yell at her, ask for a new partner, or _something,_ anything, just so she could stop feeling so guilty about those cold words that had slipped out of her mouth.

Infuriatingly, he didn't do any of those things. He still gave her the same smile every morning as he slid a cup across the desk, and opened the door to the precinct for her when they returned from a raid, and walked her to her car when it was raining. He was doing everything to pretend that everything was normal, when it wasn't and they both knew it. He never texted her to ask about their next off-duty meeting, or stopped by the apartment for drinks. Their partnership started and ended at the precinct.

And in turn, she didn't tell him about the panic-attack inducing nightmares, which started happening every time she tried to go to sleep. She spent almost every night huddled in a ball in the middle of the night, gasping for air, while trying not to wake her roommate next door. Instead of trying to go back to sleep now, she made herself a cup of chai and curled up on the couch, buried in blankets, and read for the rest of the night, until the sunlight started to peek over the horizon.

Hailey kept telling herself that things like this were normal. This happened before- she'd catch a rough case and have trouble sleeping for a week or two before going back to getting eight hours of sleep a night. This wasn't different, she repeated in her head over and over.

But she knew that it was. It was almost a month since she'd returned from New York, and yet every night was worse than the last. Sometimes, instead of standing on a ship, she'd find herself floating in the ocean as it boiled around her, or holding a knife to Atwater's throat in the interrogation room at the precinct, or drinking coffee filled with shards of metal...

It was so stupid. How many cases had she worked on since becoming a police officer? There were too many to count. Why was this one affecting her so badly? Why this one, and not her kidnapping with Burgess, or the undercover op against Booth, or the investigation into the abusive husband and his florist wife?

She hated this. She hated feeling so weak, so helpless. 

She just wanted it to end- the nightmares, the concerned glances, the tension with Jay- all of it. She wished there was a button that she could press that would reset her whole year, from Cam getting killed to ratting out Darius Walker to falsifying evidence to flying to New York. Everything would be so much better then.

* * *

Jay thought about calling Hailey every day to apologize. He found himself staring more at her contact picture now more than he'd ever looked at it when she was in New York, and that was saying something, since he saw her every day now. 

Even Voight noticed there was something going on between them. He'd called Jay into his office to talk about it one day, while Hailey was on her lunch break. 

It was the most uncomfortable conversation Jay ever had with him. He told Voight everything, what he'd noticed when he'd brought Hailey flowers, about Hailey missing in the theater and her panic attack the night after, and their fight in her apartment the next morning. The office was silent after that- Voight didn't seem to know what to say. Jay wished he did. He just wanted someone to tell him what to do about his partnership. He was starting to wonder if something broke that day at the kitchen island, something that couldn't be put together. 

"She doesn't want my help," he said, staring at the top of Voight's desk. "I don't know, Sarge, what if I can't fix this?"

Voight leaned forward, folding his hands together. "You don't need to fix anything."

Jay recoiled.

"You don't need to fix anything," Voight repeated. "She's not an object. She's a person, just like you. You can't tell her what to do or know what helps her and what doesn't. You two have been great partners because you _listen_ to each other. So maybe it's time for you to shut up and listen to what she's telling you. She might not come out and say it, but if you're paying attention, it'll be clear what she needs you to do."

"What do you mean, she won't-"

"You're a detective, Jay. You should know by now that the subtle clues often mean more than the obvious ones. Stop trying to play the knight in shining armor and go back to your real job. It'll help."

Jay left the office in a daze, mulling over what had been said. 

Voight was right. He'd been trying too hard to go about things the obvious way- the way that all of the help magazines said to go. Step one, take note of abnormal behavior. Step two, talk to the person about their symptoms. Step three, convince the person to accept help... It was too procedural. Almost like the steps a doctor would take to diagnose a patient. 

And Jay didn't know medicine. 

But he knew Hailey inside and out. They'd been partners for almost three years now, and over time, he'd picked up details about her that he was pretty sure no one else knew. He knew what foods she wouldn't eat (strawberries because she was allergic, and bananas because she hated the texture), her coffee order (black, but she didn't drink coffee anymore). She wore nerdy socks almost every day in to work but no one ever commented on them because she wore boots most of the time anyway. She liked flattening out the foil that came with certain brands of chocolate candies until it was perfectly smooth. Whenever it snowed, the first second she knew, she would run outside and stick her tongue out and try and catch a snowflake. 

He'd become so wrapped up in trying to fix her that ever since their fight, he'd stopped paying attention to her. Of course he'd noticed the coffee thing- he would have been blind not to. But now, he realized with a jolt, he could only name her little quirks from _before_ she'd gone to work with the FBI. His vision had gotten so narrow that he really didn't know her at all anymore.

She wasn't who she was before New York. He'd been treating her like she was, but she wasn't that person anymore. 

Jay knew that she'd been right. She hadn't needed his help. She needed someone in her corner, someone who knew her, someone who could hold her up even when she couldn't, who understood her. And instead, he'd let her push him away.

He was angry at himself for letting that happen.

From now on, he was going to be there. In whatever way she needed him. 

That's what partners were for.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's hailey's birthday.

When Jay woke up in the morning a few days later, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important today. Something he shouldn't forget. He mentally ran through the things he was supposed to do for the case they were working on, but the unit had gotten all of their paperwork organized the night before. He checked his cactus downstairs, and it seemed like it was still fine on water.

Then he checked his phone, and saw the calendar alert. 

_May 21- Hailey's birthday._

He groaned. He'd never forgotten her birthday before, ever since she confessed to him that she didn't have any good memories from her birthdays when she was a kid. The first time her birthday came around while they were partners, they went bowling, just the two of them, and then went out for ice cream. He didn't get her a gift- it seemed too personal then.

The next year, the team caught a gang-related case the day before her birthday. There was no time to eat the lopsided cake Ruzek brought in; it sat uneaten on the break room table for the day, creeping into the night, before any of them even came back into the building. Even then, Hailey and Ruzek were charged with processing the guy they'd kept in interrogation for most of the day, and she left after that, so he never really got a chance to talk to her in person. Instead, left the sloth charm he'd gotten for her on her desk for the next morning, along with a picture of a sloth holding balloons, which he'd drawn. 

He still remembered the message. _Don't slow me down now that you're a year older... happy birthday, partner. - Jay_

The sloth charm still hung from Hailey's keys.

Things were easier then. Now, things were weird between them, and somehow, Jay felt like texting her happy birthday would make the tension between them more real. He'd never done something that impersonal. And even though their friendship wasn't the same anymore, this was important. 

He wrestled with what to do about her birthday the entire day they were at work, settling for a simple "Happy birthday" when she walked in the door, even as he tried desperately to think of something to do later that wouldn't make things worse between them.

By the time night came and Hailey and Rojas headed back home, Jay thought _screw it._ He wasn't going to let New York ruin their lives any more than it already had. Whatever happened there was bad enough without him letting it take away his best friend.

He made a few errands before making the familiar drive toward Hailey's house, feeling more apprehensive than he'd like to admit. What if she just turned him away? But he pulled up on the street and got out of his car, refusing to give himself any more time to second guess himself.

 _I've been here at least a hundred times,_ he reminded himself as he rang the doorbell.

It took a few seconds for someone to answer. But then Hailey was there, opening the door, Star Wars socks and all, looking at him with an expression that wasn't quite a frown but something close to that. 

"Happy birthday," Jay said, before she could open her mouth, holding out the bag he'd brought with him. "I know you don't want to talk to me right now, but I wanted to give you this."

She shook her head. "I didn't mean it. What I said, I just..."

"I know."

Hailey tilted her head to the side, like she always did when something puzzled her. "Really."

"It's okay," he said, and he meant it. "I've told you so many times, but we're good."

"I was horrible to you."

"And I've said things to you that I know I shouldn't have, too. That doesn't change anything. We're always going to be good, Hailey, and not just because we have to be for our jobs. You're my best friend. I don't ever want to lose that."

Hailey smiled then, a tiny smile, but it counted.

"Are you going to open your gift?"

He almost couldn't look as she pulled a small, neatly wrapped box out of the bag and opened it. Of all of the things he'd done for her birthday, this gift felt the most questionable. Not because it was bad, but because of what it meant, and what it could mean if someone read too far into it.

She opened the box, and didn't gasp, or cry, for which he was grateful for. She just took in what was inside the box, staring at it with almost the same intensity that she'd use to look at evidence. 

"I saw this a long time ago and thought of you," Jay said, feeling like he needed to fill in the silence. "I know you don't wear necklaces often, but the blue suits you. And I wanted you to have it as a reminder, that I've got your back. But if you don't like it, that's okay, too."

Hailey shook her head. "It's beautiful, thank you."

He grinned. "I'm glad."

"Did you want to have some cake?" she asked, angling her head back inside. "Vanessa and I were just about to have some, and there's plenty to share-"

"I don't want to impose any longer than I have been, I just didn't want you to go the day thinking I'd forgotten what today means to you. But thank you for the offer."

Hailey hugged him, standing on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around his neck, before pulling away as quickly as she'd reached out. "Thank you for the gift. And for putting up with me. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around, sometimes. And I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Hails," he reminded her. "Have a good rest of your birthday. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then he walked away. 

* * *

If Hailey was being honest, she'd almost forgotten it was her birthday. The days started to blur together so much for her that she wasn't ever really sure what day it was, and had resorted to constantly checking the date on her phone every time she needed to write it down. When the first thing Jay said when he came into the precinct was 'happy birthday', she'd done a double take. 

She refused to believe that she'd lost track of time to that extreme of a level. 

And Jay didn't hate her, after all. 

She felt like an enormous weight had lifted off of her chest. He still wanted to be her partner, even after she'd pushed him away. There'd been a part of Hailey that expected him to ask for someone else, or ask for a new unit, a part of her that looked at his desk every day when she came in to make sure that he was still there.

Now she knew for sure, that he wasn't going anywhere, and that was comforting. 

Nevertheless, she still hated it every time he looked at her with that concerned expression on his face, hated knowing that he'd seen her fall apart so many nights ago, hated that he knew that she was falling apart. She didn't want to have to call him. She didn't want him to keep looking at her like that. She wanted to just be able to go to work be able to do her job without dealing with the knowledge that she was going to have to go home and relive her worst nightmares all over again. 

She went to sleep that night, full of cake, the necklace from Jay sitting on her nightstand, and woke up the next morning to the sound of her alarm, and she cried, because, for the first time since New York, she hadn't woken up in the night once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the gift jay gave hailey looks kind of like this, with maybe a little longer of a chain:  
> https://www.etsy.com/listing/208549080/blue-topaz-necklace-gold-blue-topaz?gpla=1&gao=1&utm_campaign=shopping_us_lolabeanjewelry_sfc_osa&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_custom1=0&utm_content=5801229&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIvYv3l6vC6AIVJeeGCh2_wwVJEAkYBCABEgK9j_D_BwE


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey gets a phone call.

Six days.

Whatever force was in charge of Hailey's life gave her six days to find her normal again. She started to sleep through the night without dreaming, and chop up vegetables for dinner without having a flashback, and smell coffee without wanting to vomit.

She'd forgotten what it felt like, to live without expecting someone to slam into her every time she turned around in her kitchen, or to work without feeling like she could fall asleep on her feet. She finally felt like a human being again, instead of a human shell. It was a relief to not have to hide her nightmares from Vanessa anymore, and talk to Jay without feeling like he was trying to figure out how much sleep she'd gotten that night.

Somehow, Jay visiting on her birthday calmed the waters that had been churning in her mind and gave her time to breathe without feeling like she was going to drown. 

She felt good. Better than good. She felt like herself again.

The others could tell, too. The precinct hummed with energy again. The boys went back to trying to disrupt her work as much as possible, and she went back to pretending that she was irritated by it, when really she was just relieved that they were doing it again. And Jay no longer had a worried crease to his forehead every time he brought her tea.

But an annoying part of her wondered if this was all a fluke. Her troubles disappeared so quickly- almost too quickly. She usually had a period of fade-out with her nightmares, where she spent some nights in just as deep as before, and others without even a hint of whatever was plaguing her. But this time, they'd left her all at once, leaving her relieved but a little unsettled.

It seemed too simple, too good to be true.

* * *

The unit gathered in the bullpen to resume the most recent case they'd gotten- tracking down an escaped convict on parole. Somehow, he'd found a way around the usual security measures that were put into place and vanished into the streets. They seemed close to finding him- within a few clues, at least. Hailey was pretty sure he hadn't left the city.

Voight emerged from his office, and they all straightened, expecting him to have an update on the situation. 

"Hailey, my office," he said instead, angling his head toward the door. 

Instantly, her heart plummeted. Nothing good ever came from the office, to her knowledge, and the way he was looking at her was unsettling. It was gentle, almost, instead of intimidating, and he pointed her to the chair without the intensity he'd had so many weeks ago, when he'd sent her to New York.

"What I'm about to tell you is not something you're going to want to hear," he said, his voice low. "I was just on the phone with Deputy Director Winslow, from the FBI."

Hailey shook her head, knowing what was about to come out of Voight's mouth. "They're trying to prosecute Agent Roscoe, and want you to testify against him. They're calling you as a witness. I told them I wouldn't allow it, but the FBI has an authority that even I can't interfere with. The trial date is in a few weeks. In that time, they're asking that you fly back to New York to go over the details of the case with the lawyers."

She'd guessed that the possibility that she'd be called to court would be high. She'd known it for weeks, but hearing it was so much worse. She couldn't brush that possibility under the rug anymore. Now it was real. Now it was something she had to face. She fought to keep her face emotionless, even as she felt the pressure starting to build up in her chest again and bile rise in her throat. "I thought I was done."

"If I had known what I was sending you into, I never would have let you leave," Voight told her, and he looked earnest. 

"It's a little late for that," she said, and her voice sounded like ice.

"You have three days until your flight leaves. They wanted you immediately, but I told them that you would need time to get everything in order. Cases like these can take weeks even in court."

Hailey stood, and was surprised to find that her legs weren't shaking. "Is that all?"

Voight nodded. She went to leave, and had one hand on the doorknob when he spoke again. "Hailey, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, I am too," she said bitterly.

* * *

Jay found her sitting on one of the barely used flights of stairs in the precinct, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on her wrist, staring vacantly at the blank wall in front of her. She didn't look up when he sat next to her, didn't say anything. "Voight told me what's going on," he said. "If you want to talk about anything, I'm here."

Hailey still didn't look at him. There were no tears on her cheeks. Her eyes were dry, and the brightness that he'd seen growing in them over the past week was gone again, replaced with an emptiness that scared him. He knew she was fully capable of controlling her emotions, but he'd never seen her shut down like this.

"Talk to me, Hails, please."

She looked down at her hands and he saw that they were shaking. "I feel like I'm drowning," she said after a long silence. "The water's rushing in around me and there's nothing I can do about it, and I feel like I can't breathe, and there's nothing to hold on to anymore, and I'm so scared, Jay. It's dark and cold and I can't help but think that it would be easier to just let myself take in all that water and stop having to swim all the time."

He shook his head, and took her hands in his, holding them tightly. "You can hold on to me," he said, and he'd never meant any words more in his life. "You can hold on to me, Hailey."

She manage a shuddering breath, looking at him with blue eyes that were sad and tired. "It's not that simple."

"That's not true. I'm in it with you, Hailey, I'm not going to let you go through this by yourself. I'll text or call or visit or come with you if that's what it takes. I know you said you didn't need me and that might still be the case, but I need you, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you floating."

"I don't know if I can survive this," she whispered, and his heart broke for her. "I'm afraid that if I go to New York, I won't come back."

"I'll make sure you come back."

She looked away again, and for a moment he thought she might pull away but after a few minutes, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He could still feel the tension radiating from her body, and held her hands tighter, hoping that she could take some comfort from that, at least. 

They stayed there for a long time in that stairwell, Hailey's hands still wrapped Jay's, saying nothing, and the silence spoke louder than their words. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> girl time before hailey leaves for new york.

Vanessa knew from the moment Hailey walked out of Voight's office that something was wrong. The blonde's face was pale, almost white, and there was a flat look to her eyes that hadn't been there before. If she had to bet, Vanessa would have guessed that the meeting involved something about New York. She almost followed Hailey as she disappeared from the bullpen, but before she could even move, Jay stormed into Voight's office.

It was probably best that she let Hailey's partner take care of things. She could talk to Hailey later, at the apartment. Chasing her now didn't feel like the right thing to do, especially since Jay emerged from speaking with Voight only a few seconds later and went after the blonde himself.

Neither Hailey nor Jay reappeared after that. Vanessa hadn't expected them to. She'd never seen Hailey look so fragile. It was unsettling. 

Ever since Vanessa joined Intelligence, Hailey was the one she looked toward to for guidance. The detective seemed so confident, so sure of herself. She understood what it was like to have a long-term undercover assignment, and how jarring it was to come back. She knew what it was like to be a woman in a male-dominated profession- and she didn't just deal with it, she owned it, in every sense of the word.

And now Hailey was falling apart.

Vanessa came home almost afraid of what she'd find. What would she even say? It felt like there was nothing she could do that would make this better. She thought her friend's nightmares had finally stopped, when she stopped waking up to the sound of the tea kettle quietly whistling on the stove downstairs in the middle of the night, but she now had no idea what tonight would bring.

She opened the door to find Hailey curled up on the couch, looking impossibly small in her maroon hoodie, holding a mug of tea in her hands. She stood in the door frame for a moment, mind whirling, before making a decision.

She flopped down on the couch opposite Hailey with a massive sigh, which startled the blonde, but she pretended not to notice. "I don't know about you, but I'm whipped," she declared. "And I have a sudden craving for ice cream floats."

"I know what you're doing," Hailey said, giving her a look capable of chastising even the most dangerous criminals. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Vanessa answered innocently. "Do we have any soda?" She didn't wait for an answer, and sprang up from the couch to check the fridge. "How old is this Fanta?" She held up a bottle for Hailey to see. 

"Old, like New Year's Eve old. You really want to combine Fanta with _chocolate_ ice cream?"

"It's the only thing we have, don't judge me."

"Stores exist."

"Cool cool, then let's go," she said, taking Hailey by the hands and practically dragging her to the door. "I need these floats as soon as possible, otherwise I think I might perish."

"I look like trash."

"Shut up, you do not, you're so pretty," Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Now get on your shoes. There's no time to waste. My stomach is calling to me. I'm thinking getting some root beer, or cream soda, or maybe we'll get a bunch of ice cream flavors _and_ more soda..."

"You're ridiculous," Hailey said, but she was laughing.

* * *

An hour later, the girls returned with the materials to make ice cream floats. Hailey went with the classic vanilla and root beer combination. Vanessa sampled the Fanta and chocolate mixture but ended up spitting it out in the sink, which made her roommate laugh, and then decided on peanut butter ice cream with root beer, which she enjoyed more.

The light atmosphere faded once they'd finished assembling their floats and returned to the living room. They'd put on a random movie, but neither of them paid much attention to it. Vanessa kept looking over at Hailey, who kept opening her mouth as if to say something but bailing on the words at the last second. 

"You can say whatever it is you want to say," Vanessa said.

"I'm leaving again. I don't know how long."

"Voight's sending you away?" Vanessa asked incredulously. "Again?"

Hailey shook her head. "The FBI wants me to go on the stand and testify about what happened in New York."

"Are you okay with that?"

Vanessa was pretty sure she knew the answer. She knew the effect that New York had on Hailey. She'd been there for the very first panic attack, and she'd heard every one after that, even though she didn't ever dare go into Hailey's room. She saw the dark circles under the detective's eyes before she put on makeup and noticed how jumpy she was in the kitchen.

"I don't have to be okay with it. It needs to be done."

And suddenly everything about Hailey Upton made sense to Vanessa- why Hailey became a police officer, why she bent the rules, why she pretended she was alright. She thought there was no other way for things to be _right._ Sometimes there was. 

But they both knew that this time, there wasn't another way.

"Don't worry, I know the plant watering schedule by heart now," Vanessa said jokingly. Hailey gave her a tiny smile. "And I promise not to rub strawberries all over the house while you're gone."

"Thanks."

"I got your back, Hailey."

"I know."

"Don't be a stranger this time, okay? I'm gonna need someone to talk to. I almost went crazy last time, I even considered having a conversation with your sloth mug while you were gone."

"Well, that's something I never thought I'd hear you say."

"Which is why you gotta answer my phone calls. How else are you going to keep me sane? Besides, I'll have so much embarrassing material on the guys to tell you about, so you can make fun of them when you come back," Vanessa said, bumping shoulders with Hailey. "Things are gonna be different this time around. I'm not letting you wallow in a lonely apartment by yourself. Got it?"

Hailey nodded. 

"Good. Now, can we put on Star Wars? Romance movies suck."

"Sure."

And so they settled in with their floats, and Vanessa made sure to try and make Hailey laugh every few minutes. She already missed Hailey and her calming presence and bright smile and warm words and quick wit. She wished they could stay in the living room forever, with ice cream and Star Wars and ignore the fact that they didn't know how long it would be before they could do something like this together again. In only a few days, Hailey was going to leave for New York.

And Vanessa couldn't help but worry if the girl who came back was going to be the same as the person who left. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a lil fluff, and some underlying angst about new york.

Hailey's flight left early in the morning three days later. Jay drove her to the airport, with half a mind to board the flight with her, but he knew that she didn't want him to follow her, no matter how much she was struggling. She'd told him that much. And he got that, he really did. Hailey had always been fiercely independent and stubborn, and no amount of trauma was going to change that. 

That didn't mean he had to be happy about her going back to New York alone. 

But he knew he wouldn't be able to stop her, either. 

So he let her go, a lump in his throat as she disappeared into the crowded airport. He stood at the drop-off zone for a long time, long after she'd vanished into the crowds, wishing that she would have just let him go with her.

The entire day, he couldn't stop worrying about her. Was she alright? Was she with people she trusted? From what she'd told him about New York, there were a few people that she'd formed at least minimal relationships with, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that even though she talked about the people in the unit, she'd never spoken about them like they were friends.

He got a text from her around three hours after her plane left O'Hare.

**_arrived safely, en route to where i'm staying._ **

At least she was communicating this time. He hoped against hope that she would call him if something went wrong. 

_good, stay safe, and call me if you want to talk._

She didn't respond for a long time after that. Jay stopped checking toward the middle of the afternoon, after Intelligence was hit with a sudden triple homicide case. There wasn't time, even if he wanted it, to talk to Hailey. And he did want to talk to her. He already missed hearing her voice. 

He got home around two o'clock in the morning, after hours of digging through bloodied evidence and chasing suspects through warehouses and shootouts in the pouring rain. Normally he wouldn't shower, especially when it was this late, but he felt dirty, from sweat or blood or rain he didn't know. 

By the time he got out, the clock read 2:21.

Jay climbed into bed and pulled his covers up around his shoulders and was nearly asleep when his phone started buzzing on his nightstand. His first instinct was to turn over and ignore it. If it was about the triple homicide, it could wait until morning, he thought grumpily.

But then, like something had smacked him in the face, he remembered his partner, an entire time zone away, and fumbled around, trying to pick up the phone, wide awake now.

"Hey, Hails. Everything okay?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said, and even her voice was tired. "Couldn't turn my mind off. I'm sorry if I woke you up, I know it's late."

"No, you didn't wake me up," Jay reassured her. And technically it was true- he hadn't fallen asleep yet. "We caught a triple homicide after you left. I just got home from dealing with that."

"That sounds fun."

"It wasn't, there was so much running, it was terrible. I felt like vomiting afterward- those guys could run like you wouldn't believe. Maybe you would have enjoyed it, you're weird about those things. And it was raining."

She laughed a little. "I'm not quite that weird, Jay, no one wants to run around trying to catch people when there's water dripping into your eyes."

"We missed you. We could've gotten it done faster if you were there."

"I doubt that."

They were quiet for a little. Jay tried to come up with something to say, something to make her feel better. "Where are you staying?" he asked finally.

"A townhouse. It's really nice, but unsurprising, since it's FBI run. I'm all alone, so." There was a bitterness to her tone at that, just barely there. 

"Up for giving me a tour?"

"Sure," Hailey said, but she sounded surprised. "We can switch to video and I can show you. There's nothing exciting."

Soon, she appeared on the screen. She was wearing a grey sweater, with too-long sleeves that were bunched up around her wrists. Her hair was getting a little frizzy, which tended to happen the longer in the day it was, and he could faintly see the silvery chain of necklace he'd gotten her sitting around her neck, even though the blue stone was tucked under her sweater.

And then she was gone, having flipped the camera to reveal a cozy, dimly lit living room area, with furniture in tones of red and orange. It wasn't a huge townhouse, but it was clearly well maintained and the decor was also clearly planned ahead of time, and a kitchen just beyond the living area. "This is mostly it, there's another level upstairs with two bedrooms and a bathroom."

"It looks nice. Not very _you,_ but nice."

"Yeah."

She flipped the camera again so that it was facing her. "I'm pretty cozy right now, but I can show you the upstairs later."

Jay gave her a smile. "Sounds good."

They never ended up switching back to just a phone call after that, and ended up talking for a few hours, about everything and nothing. Jay didn't bring up anything that might make her feel anxious, sensing that she hadn't called him to talk about her feelings, that she just needed something to drown out the noise in her head. 

He didn't even check the time until he caught her yawning and looked at the time on his phone. "Hails, it's almost four in the morning here," he told her gently. "I'm going to try to catch some sleep, okay?"

To other people, it might have looked like she didn't react, but Jay could see immediately how she stiffened, the relaxed half-smile she'd had on her face the past forty-five minutes freezing in place, her shoulders tensing, but she still nodded.

"I won't hang up if you don't want me to," he said quickly. "But I really should go to bed. I'll leave the call open and you can wake me up if you need me."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Hailey."

"Goodnight, Jay."

With that, he set the phone back on the nightstand beside him and settled back into the covers. At first, he kept listening to the noise on the other end of the call, alert in case she started getting anxious again, but slowly, the sound of her book pages turning started to lull him to sleep, and he found himself drifting off...

When he woke up a few hours later to go to work, he checked his phone and the call had been ended, and there was a text from Hailey.

**_thank you._ **


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey begins the court process.
> 
> aka, i don't know how court works but i pretend that i do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh I published the wrong one earlier well here's the one that was supposed to be there whoops

Hailey returned to the townhouse after spending the entire day with the Assistant United States Attorney, going over different pieces of evidence and talking about what would happen once she was in the courtroom. She revisited the case files she'd looked at and went over the report she compiled the last time she was there. 

It was strange to her own handwriting on papers that were labeled with exhibit numbers and photos of the apartment where she'd stayed. She was relieved when the ASA didn't make her look at the crime scene photos from the night she confronted Roscoe. She didn't want to see them again, but at the same time, she knew they would most definitely be brought up in court.

The ASA gave her all of the details of what her testimony would look like, telling her how she should appear on the stand (professional, but human), how she should act (put together and in control), and how she should talk (smart, but not pretentious). 

"The defense is going to try and paint you like a malicious outsider, looking to undermine authority. They're going to use any method they can possibly think of to make you seem incapable of doing your job. They're going to try and make you look stupid, or like you had something against Roscoe. They will try and destroy everything about yourself that you admire in attempt to lessen Roscoe's punishment," the ASA told her. "All you have to do is tell the truth, calmly, and the jury will believe you."

By the end of the day, she dreaded when she would have to go on the stand.

Tell the truth, the attorney said. That was easy enough, right?

She went to dinner at a tiny cafe down the street for dinner and ordered soup and salad, which was pretty much the only thing she felt like she could eat without throwing it up later. As she waited for her food to arrive, she checked her texts. There was one from Jay, one from Vanessa, and one from Voight, which was surprising.

She opened the one from Voight first.

**_I've got your back, detective. Whatever you need._ **

Hailey didn't know how to respond to that, so she left it as read. Jay's was just a picture of a travel mug, with a text that read:

**_guess i'll drink your tea for you._ **

And Vanessa's was a meme.

They were simple texts, but they made her feel better all the same. 

* * *

Hailey barely slept that night. She could even bring herself to be mad about it- she knew this was going to be a problem as soon as Voight told her that she had to go back to New York. She went to bed trying to think about all of the landmarks she would visit when she had the time, all of the stores she wanted to check out, anything to keep her mind off of the case and trial ahead of her.

But the memories crept in anyway.

_"The register's not balanced. We're short a hundred dollars. How does that happen?"_

_Her father, a bottle already in his hand, stormed into the living room, where she and her brothers sat on the floor, playing an intense game of Monopoly. They all exchanged glances._

_She knew that Logan, her only brother younger than her, had working the register today. His face was white, his eyes wide with terror, his hand inching its way to the pocket of his sweatshirt..._

_"I counted the money five times this week. I'm not stupid, I know when my own children are taking from me!" their father yelled, brandishing the beer in Michael's face. "I'm going to find out which one of you took it, whether you tell me or not."_

_"None of us took your money, dad," Michael, the oldest, said._

_The beer bottle smashed on the Monopoly board, spraying all four siblings with sticky beer, drenching the paper money at the same time, and they all jumped._

_"Don't lie to me! A hundred dollars doesn't just disappear in the span of twelve hours!"_

_And then their father started undoing his belt, and in one fluid motion, Hailey head a crack and saw Logan flinch as the buckle hit the back of his head, and before she could react, she heard the noise again, and then blood started dripping out of Logan's nose. "I know you were working the register today!" their dad snarled, and raised the belt again._

_"It was me!" Hailey shouted, and for one moment, everything was still again._

_CRACK!_

Hailey jolted awake, sitting upright in the bed, disoriented, gasping for air, drenched in sweat.

She hadn't dreamed about her father for years. Seeing that image of him with his belt raised mind unsettled her, more than she ever thought possible. As if thinking about New York wasn't enough. 

She rubbed her face with her hands, trying to calm her racing heart. Part of her wanted desperately to call Jay, to hear his voice and feel something other than fear and anger and sadness, but he'd stayed up so late for her the night before. And she refused to be one of those clingy women who needed a man to comfort her. No, she was fully capable of getting through one night by herself. 

After splashing some water on her face, she went downstairs and started making tea almost on autopilot, her mind in her house in Greektown, sitting on that floor with her brothers. She could almost smell the brand of beer that her father always drank, feel the light amber liquid dripping down her arm...

 _Stop,_ she willed her mind. 

She just wanted one moment to herself. One moment, where not thinking about anything wouldn't end up in reliving the past, where she could sleep without being haunted by ghosts, where she didn't imagine a shadow in the door-

Hailey slammed the cupboard door shut harder than she meant to, managing somehow to startle herself at the same time, before setting the mug she'd just found down on the counter with a sigh.

 _Do not turn around,_ she willed herself. There was no one there, and she knew it. But there was a part of her that worried there was, and urged her legs to move even though she knew if someone had come in, there would be at least five FBI agents in the door before they could say a word to her. 

Instead, she turned back to the counter and continued fixing her tea, only letting herself take a look at the empty doorway when her water was hot and the tea bag sat steeping in the mug.

And sure enough, there was no one there.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the trial begins.
> 
> also this is my bad but the first time i published this chapter it wasn't finished, and it was out of order, so check out chapter 17 if you haven't already...

Before Hailey knew it, the first day of the trial arrived.

She woke up at five o'clock in the morning- even though proceedings weren't scheduled to start until closer to nine. Strangely, she wasn't nervous, even though she knew that she was going to be questioned within an inch of her life. She was fully aware that, to the defense attorneys, her testimony could either make or break the case of Roscoe's innocence.

The ASA's words stuck in her mind. _Dress nicely, but don't look like you're better than anyone else in the room._ It seemed like a simple request, but Hailey knew that appearances were everything in court. How she dressed, how she carried herself, if she even hesitated once... her every move was going to be picked apart from both sides. 

At this point, Roscoe's actions mattered less than the people who were trying to prosecute him. 

Hailey had brought multiple options for court, knowing that the trial was going to take a couple of days, and guessing that there was a chance that she would have to speak more than once. 

She eventually landed on something simple- a white shirt, blue blazer, and black dress pants, with a nice pair of boots. She kept the makeup light- mascara, concealer, a touch of blush. And the necklace.

She went to the same diner she'd visited before for breakfast, noting the FBI agents that followed her in at a respectable distance. She barely touched the omelette she ordered, even though she normally loved omelettes. If she ate too much she felt like she would throw up. 

There were so many things to think about- the evidence, the attack, the testimony itself, the cross-examination... it was all making her head spin. Hailey just wanted it to be over. Finally she understood why people were so unwilling to go to court- the whole experience was a hundred times more stressful than she ever thought it was going to be. 

* * *

The witness room felt suffocatingly quiet. There wasn't much in the room- a few uncomfortable chairs, a table with a few magazines, a coffee machine... Hailey walked in and immediately sensed the tension in the room. Whether it was directed at each other, or the trial in general, she wasn't sure. Dryden and Winslow were deep in conversation in the corner, so Hailey scanned the room, looking for someone who looked at least a little friendly, and her eyes landed on a woman with dark brown hair and a ponytail. 

"Mind if I sit?" she asked, angling her head toward the chair next to the woman. 

"No, you're good," the woman answered. 

"Thanks. My name's Hailey."

The woman seemed interested then. "Maggie."

Hailey kept staring at the empty chair across from her, unconsciously rubbing her wrist, knowing now that today was a waiting game, more than anything. She felt Maggie's eyes on her, and tried to ignore them. It shouldn't have surprised her that everyone seemed to know who she was. 

"Your accent... Chicago?"

"Yeah," Hailey said, even though she was pretty sure she didn't have one, at least in the conventional Chicago sense.

"So you're the detective, then."

Hailey closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself, then opened them again. "Yeah, is that a problem?"

Maggie shook her head. "No, it's not a problem. Your name has been everywhere in these offices lately. I feel like I know you better than I know myself, frankly. We've been staring at your face for weeks."

Hailey raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"I'm an FBI agent. My unit picked up where you left off, on the case."

"I see."

"You did good work," Maggie said, and she sounded earnest. "The court should see that."

"Thanks."

* * *

No one left the room or entered it until the afternoon, when several agents that Hailey recognized as members from Roscoe's unit were called, Dryden included. He gave her a little wave as he headed toward the door, and she managed a little smile in return. 

Hailey tried to ignore the nerves that kept growing in the pit of her stomach. She kept glancing at the door, half-expecting someone to come through and call her name. At the same time, she knew that this trial and witness proceedings were going to last much, much longer than one day.

At some point in the day, Maggie introduced Hailey to her partner, a tall, serious figure named Omar Zidan, who she kept calling OA. He was polite but not extremely talkative, and Hailey's conversation with him was mostly limited to a disagreement over New York pizza, which she had never liked but he seemed to think was superior over deep dish. Overall, it was a shallow discussion, but a welcome one nonetheless, taking Hailey's mind off all of the files and evidence and memories threatening to creep into her head.

By the time the court adjourned for the day, there were still a good number of witnesses to get through. About half of the people Hailey had recognized at the beginning of the day had finished, most of whom were agents who she'd interacted with in the bullpen. From the people remaining that she knew, Dryden still had to speak, but was pretty much first on the line-up for tomorrow, and Deputy Director Winslow would most likely go after Hailey, since she hadn't known or even guessed that there was an informant in the FBI. 

And then there was a man with graying hair who Hailey thought she recognized, but couldn't quite place his face, until she saw him tuck his glasses into the front pocket of his suit coat, and then there was a flash of memory-

_A man in a white jacket, surrounded by a bright white light from above him loomed over her, looking almost like an angel. His mouth was moving but she couldn't hear the words, and he pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on his face, and there was blood on the frames, and on his blue gloves, and she wanted to tell him that there was but her mouth wouldn't move._

_She felt a prick in her arm and tried to push him away, tried to stop whatever it was from touching her, but he held down her arm._

_"You've lost a lot of blood, this will help you, detective, just lie still," he said. "Try to stay awake for me."_

_But her eyes felt heavy, and she couldn't keep them open, and she tried to tell him that , but then she felt like she was falling, falling through the bed she was on, falling through the floor-_

She jumped at the sudden hand on her sleeve, springing from her chair, and Maggie took a step back.

"They're dismissing us," she told Hailey. "Sorry if I startled you, you just looked lost in thought."

Hailey gave a tight smile. "Thanks," she said, and brushed past Maggie and OA. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

She barely made it to the bathroom of the townhouse before vomiting the meager contents of her stomach up into the toilet. She felt like the world was spinning around her, like it could turn upside-down at any moment, and she hated it. 

Hailey tried so hard the whole day to not fall apart, and yet just looking at the doctor's face yanked her back into memories she didn't even know she had, of events she hadn't thought she'd been conscious for, memories of bright fluorescent lights and IVs in her arm and needles poking into her skin. 

Why did every spot in New York have so many ghosts, she wondered bitterly. Why couldn't someone just be meaningless to her? Why did they always have to invade her mind? She thought it was impossible to see the same person twice in this city, but instead it felt like everyone knew her, or knew of her. 

She sat on the floor of the bathroom for what felt like an eternity, trying to make her head stop feeling like cotton, but she couldn't. She could feel the edges of her vision starting to blur the way they did after a nightmare, could feel the pressure building up in her chest.

And then her phone buzzed in her pocket, and it was Jay, and when she answered it, the pressure eased up just enough to keep her from slipping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://fashionlookstyle.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/trendy-business-casual-outfit-ideas.jpg
> 
> this is kind of what i was thinking for hailey's outfit, but with jay's necklace instead.
> 
> also, got a chance to catch up with the FBI episode this morning and wow, tracy really just came onto a show on another network and made everyone fall in love. hailey fit in so well with the team- they trust her so much already! and while she didn't ever get disciplined for anything (which is what i kind of thought would happen) i do think she came back to the values she had at the beginning of season 5- by the book, but feisty. hopefully OA visits chicago soon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day two of trial passes by without incident. day three, though...
> 
> please don't hate me if you're a lawyer haha

Hailey didn't sleep well that night, or the night after. She spent the entire second day of trial wishing it was over. 

On the third day, she got her wish, and was called as the first witness of the day.

"I, Hailey Ann Upton, swear that the evidence that I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God," she found herself saying, standing before the crowded courtroom, eyes fixed firmly ahead of her. 

The prosecuting attorney rose and approached her. "You're a detective, is that right?"

"Yes, I work for the Chicago Police Department, in Intelligence."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but the Intelligence division is the highest division in the state, am I correct?"

"It is considered the most prestigious department in Chicago, yes, you would be correct." Briefly Hailey thought of her friends, so many miles away, and wondered if they were thinking of her. She hadn't checked her phone in a while, not wanting to see any news relating to the case. 

"Would you mind telling us how you got to New York? Why are you here?"

Hailey took a deep breath. "My sergeant occasionally sends members of our unit to other areas of the country, in order to experience what it's like in areas other than Chicago. He says it reminds us of who we are, when we're sent somewhere drastically different from what we're used to. He said there was a taskforce in New York that needed a loaner agent, and he chose me. And so I came here."

"What were your initial impressions of the FBI?"

"They're organized. Procedural. More resources, higher stakes. I was intimidated at first, but once I started working, I realized that evidence doesn't change, no matter what city it originates in. Money is money, video is video."

And so the line of questioning continued. Hailey talked for a long time- what felt like an eternity- about how her suspicious had grown the more she dug into the paperwork, how she couldn't pinpoint an agent in particular for a long time, how it got to the point where she knew she couldn't hide it anymore, so she brought the case to Roscoe. How he hadn't seemed as shaken as she thought he might be at the idea of someone in his unit turning traitor.

There was where she stopped, and looked down at her lap, at the two scars on her wrist, swallowing the lump growing in her throat. 

"Go on, detective," the attorney said, voice gentle. 

Hailey forced herself to look up and back toward the jury. "I returned to the apartment where I was staying, thinking that everything would smooth itself out. I did what FBI protocol asked of me and reported my suspicions. I assumed that he knew his unit well enough to identify the mole. But I was wrong."

"What led you to believe that?"

"I was in the kitchen," Hailey said, and it was if she was there again, standing in the same place that haunted her nightmares daily, but this time, she could see herself, as if she were a bystander watching the entire thing unfold in slow-motion. "I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and so I pulled a knife out of the drawer closest to me."

She closed her eyes, willing the memory to go away. "I threw it, but it didn't hit anything. And I was on the ground, and there was someone on top of me. They were much bigger than me, and taller than me. I'm trained in self-defense but this person somehow knew everything they needed to do to hold me down. It felt like they were barely even trying, and yet somehow, I couldn't escape."

Hailey felt the words catching in her throat, and looked past the lawyers' tables, and into the room at large.

And suddenly she saw Jay sitting there, in the back corner of the room. 

"What happened next?" the attorney prodded.

Hailey looked away from her partner and back toward the jury. "My assailant held me down and beat me," she said, and there were no other words for it but that. "Not anywhere people could see, just my chest and stomach. And then they said, and then I could tell it was a man, that if I went to anyone about the evidence I found they would come and kill me. And then he stomped onto my ribcage, and I heard something crack, and by the time I got up, he was gone."

They went on lunch break after that.

Hailey spent most of it outside, sitting on the steps, trying to catch her breath while also trying to avoid Jay. She knew that if she saw him, she would fall apart and wouldn't be able to get herself back together in time for the afternoon.

He seemed to get the hint, since he gave her a little wave before walking off down the street. 

OA sat down next to her halfway through the break and didn't say anything, just offered her a slice of pizza. Deep dish.

"Thanks," she told him, and he just stuck a slice of his own in his mouth and nodded.

* * *

"How did you reach the conclusion that Agent Roscoe was the person who had been informing the drug cartels of the FBI raids?"

"He threatened me inches from my face. Even though he wore a ski mask, I could still smell my attacker's breath. I'd been close enough to Roscoe to smell it in his office, so when I inhaled it that night, it was fresh in my memory. That was all the information I needed to connect the dots in my evidence. I went back through everything I'd ever looked at, and could trace it directly back to Roscoe- bank accounts, phone numbers..."

The attorney made her talk through her thought process leading up to the arrest- why she trusted Dryden, what he'd said, why she went to Winslow, what their plan had been...

And then he picked up a bag from the evidence table and held it out to Hailey.

The knife.

She couldn't stop herself from flinching, turning her head away from the thing that haunted her more than anything that ever happened in New York. "Do you recognize this weapon, Detective Upton?"

"Yes," she said. She took a deep breath, twisting her hands together in her lap, before she looked back out at the court, looking at Roscoe for the first time since she'd walked into the courtroom. His once carefully manicured beard was scraggly and loose, and there were deep bags under his eyes. And there was still a confident set to his jaw and glimmer in his eyes as he stared back at her.

"I came home from the FBI office that night expecting him to be there. That was the plan, for him to show up. That would be some sort of evidence against him, at least. I was so careful about making sure I wasn't followed, that no one ambushed me until I got to my house. But I wasn't careful enough. Not a few minutes after I walked in the door, I started feeling tired. My limbs felt heavy, and my brain felt slow. And he was there."

Roscoe's lips turned up in a wicked smile then, and Hailey almost looked away, but she refused to let him have that victory.

"And I confronted him, tried to get any bit of information that I could, and I got him to admit that he'd drugged me with some kind of tranquilizer, which explained why I couldn't move, couldn't hold myself up. I was close to getting what I needed out of him, but not quick enough. He had that knife in his hand, and told me that he was going to make it looked like I killed myself. I felt hazy, but I kept him talking. And as I talked I felt him slit my wrists open."

Hailey paused, gathering her thoughts, trying to keep a level head. "He thought he had an advantage then, but he was the one who kept spilling information. I just took what he gave me and talked him into a confirmation."

The attorney nodded solemnly. "Thank you, detective. What do you remember, after that?"

"Not much. I remember him putting the knife in my hand, and then raising it to my throat, and then I remember hearing popping sounds, and Agent Dryden was there. My memories after that are hazy at best. I remember some of the hospital- the doctor with glasses in his pocket- and then I remember waking up in a bed."

"No further questions, your honor."

* * *

And then the defense attorney stepped up.

"Detective Upton, you mentioned that your sergeant sends members of your unit to various locations to 'remind you of who you are'. Do you think you would feel comfortable knowing that the people who keep our country don't know _who they are?_ "

"We know perfectly well who we are. The reminder isn't to help us figure out our identity as a person. It prevents us from becoming too comfortable in our own skin. If we stayed in the same place, we'd get complacent. It's a reminder to stay alert, and not get lazy, not as a soul-searching endeavor," Hailey answered, trying her best not to sound annoyed at the question.

"But why you in particular? Do you have a habit of slacking at your job?"

"I wouldn't say that. Like everyone else who works the same occupation for years on end, I needed a change of scenery. That doesn't make me bad at being a detective."

She knew what they were doing. They were trying to unsettle her, make her feel like she needed to defend herself. 

"In your description of the FBI, you left out any mention of individuals or people that you took note of. Specifically, you mentioned that 'money is money'. Did you form any close connections during your time in New York? Is your sole priority monetary gain?"

"I think we all recognized that the FBI exists to get a job done, not make friends," Hailey said coldly. "We were friendly with each other, made small talk, but since I was only there for a few weeks, I consider those relationships as in-depth as they needed to be. To answer your money question, no, I am not motivated by money. If I were, I would be the one on trial for informing an illegal drug ring of FBI raids."

From the look on the defense attorney's face, he knew he'd made a mistake, but he controlled his expression quickly.

"You said you were there to get a job done, but it's clear that your loyalties are not deeply rooted in the FBI. Is it possible, detective, that your motivations for coming here are less-than innocent?"

"Objection!"

"Sustained."

Hailey could tell that the defense attorney was wavering. He clearly didn't expect her to keep a level head, which was making it harder and harder for his questions to seem valid to the other people in the room.

At least that meant things would be over, soon.

And sure enough, after a few more questions, in which Hailey maintained her stance that she was doing her job, not trying to undermine the FBI, and that she had no prior bias toward Agent Roscoe, court adjourned for the day.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another reunion, much like the last.

Hailey emerged from the courthouse feeling dazed. 

The cross-examination hadn't been as bad as she expected it to be- but she never, ever, wanted to sit in that chair again. The worst part had been seeing the knife, remembering how cold it had been, almost like ice, and seeing Roscoe's satisfied smirk when she flinched.

She felt as if she were in a dream as she hurried down the white stone steps, her feet automatically taking her in the direction of the townhouse, her mind already tuning out her FBI security as they followed her.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, and there was Jay, halfway down the street, just standing there, looking toward the courthouse, and then she was running, and he started running, too.

He caught her as she wrapped her arms around her neck, holding her tightly, and suddenly she was crying, hot, burning tears, and she couldn't find the words to tell him what seeing him in the courthouse had meant to her, but he squeezed her shoulders and she knew that he knew anyway.

"It's going to be okay," Jay murmured, into her hair, and she wanted to believe him, she really did, but there was a part of her that had a feeling that the prosecuting attorney was going to call her again, and she couldn't breathe thinking about it.

Jay seemed to notice her suddenly tense in his arms and held her even tighter. "Just breathe with me, Hails. One at a time."

Eventually she found that the air stopped catching in her lungs and then she pulled away, wiping her eyes. "You didn't have to come," she managed, but she could barely get the words out.

Jay shook his head. "I didn't want you to be alone."

* * *

They went to a quiet restaurant together, and Jay couldn't help but stare at Hailey from across the table. 

She'd seemed okay on the stand. Not good, but okay. Her answers, of course, were the answers that any attorney would want their witness to have- articulate, calm, but pointed. On the cross-examination, Hailey had been the one in control, not the defense attorney, and that fact was blatantly obvious to everyone in the room. He'd even some of the people coming out of the courthouse commenting on how well Hailey had defended herself.

But he noticed the little cues on the stand that betrayed how affected she'd been. The moment she'd started being questioned by the defense attorney, her shoulders tensed, and her head movements were sharp, like a rabbit on full alert, which meant that she was on edge. 

Everyone saw her flinch at the knife. 

That part had been awful. Jay knew from before that _something_ had happened with a knife, something that had shaken Hailey to the core, but actually knowing what happened made it worse.

He couldn't help but stare daggers at Roscoe as the security led him out of the courtroom at the end of the day. He wanted so desperately to have five minutes alone with the man, if not to make him pay for everything he'd ever done to give Hailey so much _pain._

"You're staring," she said, and Jay gave a sheepish smile.

"Hard not to, when I have a pretty girl across from me," he said, which made her smile, even if it was barely there.

"You're a flatterer. We both know that I look like I've just been hit by lightning after standing in the rain for an hour."

He had to disagree. She looked beautiful to him, even though wisps were coming out of her ponytail, and her bright blue eyes were red from crying. She looked real.

"What do you want to talk about?" Jay asked, as Hailey played with the salt and pepper shaker on the table. 

Hailey shrugged. 

"I had some New York pizza before I went to see you in court," he said finally, picking a subject that seemed at least a little safe. "It kind of reminds me of if you put ketchup on a Saltine cracker, and some cheese, and then microwaved it."

"That's what I thought, too," Hailey said, the corner of her mouth twitching up in an almost smile again. "It's okay, but Chicago pizza is so much better. Apparently they do have deep-dish pizza places here, though. OA had some that he gave to me, because we talked about pizza in the waiting room."

"OA?" 

He knew it was the wrong thing to ask the moment the words came out of his mouth when he saw her nearly drop the salt shaker and the tension in her shoulders returned. 

"He's one of the agents who picked up the case once I... left."

Jay was saved from having to answer by the waitress coming over with their drinks- hot chocolate for both. 

"Are you ready to order?"

"Sure," Hailey said, before Jay could say anything. "I'll have the chocolate waffles. Leave off the fruit, if that's possible, I'm allergic to strawberries."

"And I'll have the Nutella crepes," Jay said, picking the first thing he saw on the menu. 

The waitress nodded, and took their menus before disappearing again. 

"I realized something," Jay said. Hailey tilted her head to the side. "We're horribly overdressed for this place." And they were- Jay was wearing a button-down shirt and khakis, while Hailey was still in her court outfit. 

"We're at a diner, which is pretty much an alternate dimension. You can do pretty much anything you want and people will accept that you're doing it."

Once their food came, they ate in relative silence. Well, Jay ate, and Hailey picked at her food. She ended up getting some of her whipped cream on her nose, which Jay found incredibly endearing. 

"Hey, Hails, smile for the camera!" he said, grabbing his phone and snapping the picture before she could even react. "By the way, you something on your nose."

She gave him a scalding look, but it was impossible for her to look intimidating with a forkful of waffle and whipped cream on her face. "You tell me _after_ you take a picture of me? Seems a little out of order."

"I had to document this moment."

She wiped her face with her sleeve and shook her head. "You're ridiculous," she said, but there was a new lightness to her voice that hadn't been there before. 

They walked to where Hailey was staying. Hailey threaded her arm through Jay's without a word, and he didn't comment on it, just gave her shoulder an affectionate knock before turning his attention back to the street. 

Too soon, Hailey paused at the steps leading up to a nice looking townhouse, extracting her arm from Jay's. "This is it," she told him, and the sadness to her voice was back. "Thank you for walking me back."

"I can stay," he offered, hestitantly, and she shook her head before he'd even finished.

"You've already done so much for me."

"You say it like you're keeping track."

Hailey shrugged, a little sadly. "Maybe I am."

Jay stepped closer, taking her hands in his. "You shouldn't," he told her seriously. "Partners don't keep score, and even if we did, I'd still have so much to make up for."

She shook her head. "If you stay, I'm going to fall apart," she whispered, staring at their hands for a moment, and he reached out to her, but then she turned, walked up the stairs, and stepped inside without looking back at him. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey speaks in court for one last time.
> 
> mentions of suicide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just gonna say that the outfit hailey wears today is the outfit she wore in the FBI episode. I honestly wish she'd wear outfits like that more often- the coat suits her.

Hailey sat in the courtroom this time, along with at least three other people, all of whom she recognized from their files. Files that she'd read when she was trying to figure out who the informant was. And she knew why they were all there- why they were all sitting together.

Each of them had worked in Roscoe's unit on the drug ring case. Each of them had been loaner agents, not meant to be there for a long time. Each of them had gotten close to solving the case. 

The other four individuals who had done the same thing were dead.

"The court will now hear victim impact statements from several past members of the taskforce operated by Mr. Roscoe."

One by one, the people around her went to the podium, but Hailey processed almost none of what they said, even as they talked of being beaten, of how Roscoe showed them images of their families, and threatened to kill them... all she could do was stare at her hands, clasped together in her lap, and try not to think about the silvery knife, the stench of coffee, the dark purple bruises...

"The final impact statement is presented by Detective Hailey Upton."

She stood, and found that her legs were steadier under her fee than she thought. The walk to the podium seemed long, and she could feel the entire court's eyes on her. 

When she reached the podium, she turned toward the jury, and took a deep breath. "There is a certain degree of trust that you have to place in the people around you when you work in law enforcement. You operate on the assumption that the people around you hold the same values that you do- to protect the innocent, to uphold the law. When that trust is violated, it shakes the core of your being."

"And Agent Roscoe did just that. He took advantage of his position and his fellow agents, breaking that bond and violating that trust for what? Three million dollars. He didn't become an agent for others- he became one for himself."

"If you have any doubts about his integrity as an agent, know this- he doesn't protect people. He doesn't help people."

Hailey was almost vibrating with anger now. "No, he does something far, far worse. He digs into your personal life and finds pictures of your children-" she pointed at a grey-haired man, whose eight-year-old daughter Roscoe threatened- "He twists crime scenes to look like you were the one who murdered a sixteen-year-old, ruining your reputation and your marriage-" she pointed at a young detective, sitting with tears streaming down his face- "He follows you home every night and wipes blood on your walls-" she pointed at the final officer, a young woman.

And Hailey pulled up the sleeves of her coat and held out her wrists for the jury to see. "He broke into my apartment and beat me until I couldn't breathe anymore, and then he threatened to kill me if I told anyone. I did anyway, because _it is my duty_ to reveal the truth, and so he came back, drugged me, and took the same knife I tried to defend myself with the first time and slit my wrists with it."

"I think about it every night," she said, quieter, and was surprised to feel moisture on her cheeks, even though she hadn't noticed her tears before. "I see the blood, and feel the blade of the knife pressing into my skin, and smell his breath on my face, and I feel like I'm drowning. Most nights, I don't sleep, because the memory of it keeps coming back to me."

She glanced at the people gathered to watch the proceedings, trying to find Jay, but in her quick glance missed him. 

"I've thought about killing myself almost every night since," she said, and as the words came out of her mouth, she realized they were true, even she'd never let herself think them before, not even when she was alone. "But I know that, in these moments, there is always a right choice and a wrong one. Roscoe will try and claim that he had no option but to betray his friends and his country and to aid this drug ring in selling contaminated product and inform them of raids, but there is always a choice- to tell the truth, to turn away from temptation, to choose to live."

"So please, do not let him fool you into thinking that he is the victim here. Because there are four people in this room and witnesses in the next room over and three dead bodies that will tell you otherwise."

* * *

The jury debated for a long time.

Jay wanted desperately to find Hailey, to talk to her.

He wanted to know- when she talked about drowning, and giving up, was that her trying to tell him something? Was he so unobservant that he couldn't even tell when she was struggling with a choice with that magnitude?

But he looked for her everywhere, as the jury talked, and couldn't find her. He tried calling her but she wouldn't answer, and he knew that she was avoiding him.

Did she think he'd be angry? Disappointed?

Maybe he was, a little- he wished she would have told him. But he knew that Hailey had always been and most likely always would be an extremely private person. Not many people got even close to knowing her as well as he did.

The thought of losing Hailey... he couldn't even imagine it. 

She was everything to him- his best friend, his partner in crime (anti-crime, really), his rock. Everything. If she died, he didn't know what he'd do, because he loved her. Loved her in the way that made him feel warm and fuzzy when he saw her smile, loved her in a way that felt like a punch to the chest when she cried, that made him want to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. It was far more complex than a crush, even more complex than the way he'd loved Erin. This was different. 

Before he could find her, he got an alert that the jury had reached a decision.

* * *

"We, the jury, find the defendant guilty of the following: fifteen counts of falsifying evidence, five counts conspiracy against the government, three counts of first-degree murder: William Chase, Allison Keene, and Jacob Salazar, seven counts of breaking and entering, seven counts of assault, including the assault of two federal agents- William Chase and Victor Langley- and three police officers- Allison Keene, Mallory Madison, and Hailey Upton, one count of the attempted murder of police officer Hailey Upton..."

The list went on and on. Roscoe was found guilty of almost every charge that had been brought up in court. By the end, Jay knew the accumulation of all of his charges would mean that he would not be leaving prison for a long, long time, if not never.

His eyes stayed on Hailey the entire time, watching for some sign that she was about to fall apart. But her face was smooth, impassive.

If anything, that was far, far worse. 

She'd turned off her emotions. She'd done it before, in particularly violent instances when the time was of the essence, when there was no time to do anything other than work on the case. But shutting down always came with a cost, for her, the implications of which were always worse than if she'd just let herself feel instead of ignoring it.

What would happen this time, when she finally dropped the pretense that she was in control?

Whatever did happen, Jay vowed that he would be there. He wouldn't let her suffer through this alone. 

He waited for her, as everyone left the courtroom, and when she emerged, he held out his hand.

She took it, and held it tightly the entire journey back to the townhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love them so much :) what do you think? what interactions do you want to see? let me know, because I'm writing as I go here!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this time, hailey lets jay in.

Jay followed Hailey up the steps of the townhouse and inside without saying a word. Even if she didn't want him there, he didn't want her to be alone tonight. He would feel irresponsible if he just went back to his hotel without making sure she was okay. 

The FBI agents knocked on the door a minute later, but they didn't seem aggravated when they asked to see his ID. He guessed that they'd done their homework and decided that he was probably not a threat.

Once he'd done that, he went back to the living area, where Hailey sat on the couch, staring at her hands.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Water? Something to eat?"

"I'm okay."

Jay walked over to the other end of the couch and sat beside her. "You did really, really well today," he said. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but you did good."

Hailey just gave a listless shrug.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said, but he could see moisture gathering in her eyes, even though she tried to turn away and hide it.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

A nod.

Jay reached out and started rubbing circles on her back. He could feel her take a shuddering breath, could sense the tension radiating through her body. "You're safe with me, Hailey, I hope you know that. No matter what."

"I know."

Her voice was so small when she said it.

"And... I just want you to know that I'm with you, every day. Good and bad. I don't want you to be afraid of telling me something. Don't let that hold you back, don't go through this alone."

They both knew what he was talking about. Jay kept hearing Hailey's confession in his head. _I've thought about killing myself every night since._

"I didn't want you to think worse of me," she whispered.

Jay shook his head, taking her hands in his, sliding over so that their knees were touching and he was looking her in the eye. "I would never, ever judge you for something like that. I love you, Hailey, and that's not going to stop, no matter what happens, or what you tell me. Nothing will change that."

And there they were- those three words. 

_I love you._

Hailey let out a strangled breath, as tears ran down her cheeks. He reached out and pulled her closer to him, so that her head was in his lap, and he held her as she cried.

* * *

The sun slowly crept lower and lower until the living room was dark, lit only by the lamp on the side table that Hailey must have left on that morning when she left for court.

She'd started to relax as soon as Jay began playing with her ponytail, soothed by the constant motion of his hands running through her hair. It had taken a long time for her shaking to stop, but he was glad that he'd found something that calmed her, even though trying it had made him a little nervous. Now her eyes were closed, her breathing even, and Jay knew she'd fallen asleep.

She deserved a good rest, after everything she'd had to go through the past week or so. He'd gotten the impression that she hadn't really slept while she'd been in New York, if her late-night texting was any indication. 

He kept smoothing her hair, which was impossibly soft, far softer than he'd imagined it being. Part of him was afraid to stop because he knew she was a light sleeper. The other part of him didn't want to stop, just because it felt nice, to finally feel like he was doing something for her that was actually helpful.

Hailey's phone, which sat on the side table, lit up with a message. He glanced at it, briefly, just to make sure that it wasn't something urgent. 

**_Voight: Heard Roscoe was found guilty. Proud of you._ **

Jay felt a flash of anger run through him at that.

How dare Voight tell Hailey he was _proud_ of her? He was the one who sent her to New York, alone, and got her in this mess in the first place, all because he was mad at her for what she'd done to Gael and Darius Walker. And now he was trying to pretend that everything was normal, that this case was just like any other, that he could pass off its results in a text.

It was almost 9:30 now, and Jay could feel his leg starting to fall asleep. He willed it to stop- he didn't want to have to wake her up and ruin this moment of peace for her. She looked almost angelic, with her blonde hair and serene expression on her face, and he wished he could capture this image forever. 

A dog barked from somewhere outside, and she stirred, blinking up at him with bleary eyes, and he gave her a little smile. She sat up, smoothing her ponytail, looking a little disoriented as she took in the darkness of the room.

"Feeling better?"

"A little."

Surprisingly, there wasn't any awkwardness between them, despite the last words he'd said to her. It felt almost like normal, as if nothing really changed. The more that Jay thought about it, nothing really did change.

Those words had always been there, just not as _those words_ in particular. They'd been saying them to each other for years now, just with different letters, but they'd always meant the same thing. 

_You good? Stay with me._

"Are you hungry? We could order something," Jay suggested, as she got up and started moving around the room, turning on a few more lights. "Have any good food lately?"

She shrugged. "I don't have any preferences."

"Chinese food? Can't go wrong with that."

"Sure."

So they ordered Chinese food, and ate it on the couch while they watched Stat Wars: A New Hope, which, Jay remembered, was one of her favorite movies. She'd changed out of her court outfit into a pair of plaid pajama pants and the same grey sweater she'd worn several days before, on their video call. 

"If you were in Star Wars, what would you want to be?" Jay asked her, halfway through the movie. "I think I'd want to be a pilot."

"I'd want to be a Jedi," she said after a pause. "Blue lightsaber. And you would definitely be a pilot. Like Han Solo."

He could live with that. 

After that movie finished, they found the next one, and started that. He could tell that even though she'd fallen asleep when they returned from the courthouse, she was afraid of going to sleep. 

He didn't blame her. He knew how it felt, to have no refuge in sleep, to know that the memories could creep in at any moment. So he didn't protest, and just settled in for another movie, every so often looking at Hailey to make sure she was alright.

And she seemed okay. Not great, but okay. 

She'd get there. She was going to be okay. Jay was sure of it.

Eventually, she ended up falling asleep toward the end of their third Star Wars movie, her head on the armrest of the couch. Jay picked her up as gently as he could and carried her upstairs, tucking her under the covers before closing the door shut behind him.

He debated going back to the living room and sleeping on the couch, but he didn't want to be too far away, in case she needed him. So he went to the other bedroom and sat on the bed, answering some of the unit's questions before drifting off to sleep himself, still sitting upright against the headboard.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> while the night doesn't go so well, the next day gets better.
> 
> alternatively, it's a date. but not really a date, because they're not together, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: hailey's nightmares do tend to be graphic, and she has one in this chapter. you can skip the italics if you don't want to read it!

_She was on the ship again, the waters churning around her, dark and angry. But she wasn't alone this time._

_This time, there was a figure, shadowed, standing at the helm of the ship, looking straight at her with gleaming eyes, and in its hand, she saw a brief flash of silver. The figure stalked toward her, seeming to almost glide across the deck._

_And suddenly it was right in front of her, looking at her with a wicked grin, and she found that her feet were rooted to the floor, and her hands were trapped at her sides, and she couldn't move._

_The figure reached out and touched her arm, and it felt like ice on her skin, and she wanted to move away but she couldn't._

_She could see the shimmer of the knife as the figure held it out, and she knew what was going to happen, knew that, like so many other nights, she would feel the blade bite into the skin on her wrist._

_The figure took her hand, and its touch, so unlike the calming warmth of Jay's hands, chilled her to the bone._

_But then, in one fluid motion, the shadow lashed out, and drove the knife through her chest, straight to her heart. And it laughed, sounding almost inhuman, but then it changed, sounding like someone else, sounding horribly familiar..._

_The shadows poured off the figure like smoke, and then it was Jay standing in front of her, and he was smiling at her, and laughing at her, still holding the knife in her chest._

_And she felt like she was on fire, hot, searing pain coursing through her body, and she opened her mouth to scream but she couldn't, couldn't do anything but stand there and bear the agonizing burning sensation in her veins, eating away at her heart._

_And Jay just pushed the knife further into her heart, staring straight at her with those lifeless, coal-black eyes, and all she could do was try to breathe, but it felt like a thousand shards of glass were in her chest, cutting her with every inhale._

* * *

Jay woke up to the sound of screaming.

It took him a second to fully wake up and realize what was happening- but as soon as he did, he was out of the bed, and running to Hailey's room, yanking open the door. 

She was curled up in the corner of her bed, the sheets tossed aside, and was clutching her chest, and screaming, eyes squeezed shut.

"Hailey!" Jay reached out and shook her shoulder.

She jumped, her eyes flying open, and she scrambled away from him, her breathing ragged.

"You're okay," he said, reaching out to reassure her, to hold her, but she flinched away, refusing to even look at him. "Hailey, you're safe."

"Don't touch me!" 

He immediately stepped back, holding his hands up in front of him. "Okay, okay, I won't come closer."

He could see her tears, just as before she buried her face in the nearest pillow. "Please leave," she said, her voice muffled. "Please."

"Okay. I'll leave. I'm going to be just downstairs, if you need me. Or you can call me."

And Jay left, and each step he took away from her was agonizing. But he knew that being in that room tonight wouldn't have helped her at all. He'd caught the glint of fear in her eyes when he'd tried to get closer, seen the way her breath hitched when she'd thought he was going to touch her. Something in her dreams had made her _afraid_ of him. 

The thought made him unbelievably angry.

Not at her. He could never be angry at her. He was angry at everything- Voight, for making her come to New York, Roscoe, for making her feel so unsafe, himself, for not thinking to come sooner. To follow her to New York the first time.

How could he have let this happen? There were so many signs, even before she left, that she was on a downward spiral. And he'd ignored them.

He was supposed to be her best friend.

* * *

Hailey knew she shouldn't have pushed Jay away. She regretted it as soon as the words came out of her mouth, as soon as she saw the hurt flash across his face. 

But when she looked at him, she felt the freezing cold of the knife sliding into her heart, felt the fiery pain that coursed through her body afterward, heard the almost maniacal laughter that had come out of _his_ mouth.

It took her a long time to steady herself. Her mind kept wanting to go back to the dream, to try and escape, to do something. She kept telling herself that she was already free, she was awake, she was safe. 

Eventually, the pain faded, and she felt almost normal again.

Almost.

She dreaded going downstairs and facing Jay. She was so tired of falling apart in front of him. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were, back when the thing that troubled her the most was the prospect of Kelton winning the election... which felt like an eternity ago.

Hailey stared at the wall for a long time, lost in thought, until the sun started creeping through the blinds, and she knew she couldn't prolong leaving the room anymore.

She went to the bathroom first, and splashed some water on her face, which seemed to help a little. And then she went downstairs.

Jay was sitting on the couch, in the same place he had the night before when they were watching Star Wars. He looked up when he heard her footsteps on the stairs and gave her a gentle smile, a smile that she definitely didn't deserve.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She managed a shrug, and sat down opposite him, tempted to just go back upstairs and avoid whatever awkwardness this was. But she didn't.

"Voight sent me the flight details, for both of us," he said, breaking the silence. "We're leaving tomorrow, if that's alright with you."

Hailey nodded.

"So I was thinking that we could do some sightseeing, if you're up for it. Make some good memories in New York before we leave. If not, we can stay in," Jay said, watching her carefully to gauge her reaction.

"Sightseeing sounds nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome. I saw some pancake mix in the cupboard, I don't know how old it is, but I figure it's worth a shot," Jay said, brushing off his hands. "And I found some chocolate chips, too."

Hailey couldn't help but smile as Jay bounced up from the couch and started moving around the kitchen. It was easy now to forget the shadowed demon from her dreams as she watched him start to measure out the pancake mix. This Jay would never hurt her, and she knew that.

* * *

They ended up taking the train to Times Square, even though it was an extremely touristy thing to do. Considering that Hailey lived in New York for a little over a month now, she hadn't ever had the time, or the energy, to even think about exploring.

Jay noticed her tense at the sight of the crowded streets and slipped his hand inside hers, fully prepared for her to pull away. But she didn't, and they followed the crowd hand-in-hand for a while.

"The M&M store?" Jay suggested, after they'd walked around for a bit without finding anything they were particularly interested in. 

"Sure."

So they stepped inside. The store was crowded, but not terribly overwhelming, and Jay and Hailey quickly found themselves in front of the giant build-your-own bag display. 

Jay decided that he would make his own bag, while Hailey opted to just watch him try and decide which M&Ms to put into his custom mix. Eventually, after much deliberation, the flavors he ended up with were peanut, hazelnut, peanut butter and pretzel. He was tempted to add the coffee bean flavored ones, but if he was going to share with Hailey, he didn't want her to have to worry about accidentally getting one. And the mint ones, which he did like, wouldn't fit flavor-wise with the rest of them. 

By then, it was around lunch time. They walked around a little more before deciding that they should probably at least get a photograph in Times Square, and were just about to snap a selfie together when a grandmother from another group offered to take their picture for them.

They were taken aback, but Jay handed over his phone and wrapped one arm around Hailey's shoulders for the picture.

After that, they took the subway to get far enough away from the touristy area of the city that the restaurants weren't obnoxiously priced, and ended up eating at a cozy sandwich shoppe. 

"Where do you want to go?" he asked Hailey, as they munched on their food. "I picked a place, now you choose something."

"We could go to the LEGO store," she suggested. "Just for something to do. I'm sure they have things you can build."

Jay raised his eyebrows. "Never would have pegged you for an avid LEGO builder."

"Avid is a strong word. But I had three brothers, of course I know my way around a LEGO set."

They were pretty much the only people in the store unaccompanied by small children, which amused Jay greatly. After they walked through the store for few minutes, Hailey stopped at the build-your-own mini-figure section. "Want to do this?" she asked, inclining her head toward the display. "I'll do yours if you do mine."

Jay grinned. "You're on."

They both set about their task, trying to hide what they were doing from the other. Jay spent a long time trying to find a face that reminded him of Hailey, eventually landing on a simple smiley face instead of one that was all done up with makeup. She never wore a lot of that, anyway. He found a red flannel shirt piece that reminded him of the flannel shirts Hailey usually wore, even though today she wasn't wearing one.

"Are you done?" he asked her, nearly a half-hour later.

"Pretty much."

"Okay, then reveal on three, one, two, three."

They both uncovered the LEGO figure's they made. Jay laughed when he saw that Hailey had put him in the most generic police officer outfit that they had. She'd clearly spent a lot of time on the hair, though- it didn't look like any of the hair pieces that he'd seen. 

"Nice job," she said. "I'm impressed you found a flannel like that."

"It wasn't easy."

After they paid, they headed back to the townhouse. Hailey stopped to talk to the FBI agents who'd been watching her, presumably to tell them that she was leaving the next day, while Jay stood off to the side. 

"All good?" he asked her when they resumed walking.

"Yeah. They weren't really concerned, since they've researched you and know you're someone I trust. They didn't even follow us today," she said as she opened the door to let them back inside. 

* * *

For dinner, they ate the leftover Chinese food from the night before, plus some of the M&M's Jay bought. 

"Thank you for today," Hailey said seriously, looking at Jay over her mug of tea. "Really."

"You don't have to thank me, Hails," he told her. "Plus, I'm the one who got chocolate and a LEGO figure out of it, so I think I should really be the one who's doing the thanking."

That made her smile a little bit. 

"I need to go back to my hotel," he remembered with a jolt, and started toward the door, pausing when he realized that he'd be leaving Hailey by herself.

"You should definitely do that," she said quickly. 

"Are you good here?"

"I'll be fine."

Jay studied her for a moment. She still seemed so fragile, sitting there with her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. Her hoodie seemed to almost swallow her whole, and her eyes still had a deep sadness to them.

"Do you want me to come back?" he asked.

She swallowed, looking down at the plate in front of her. "Can you?"

The question was quiet, almost timid.

"Of course," he said immediately. "I'll be back within two hours."

He rushed his way back to the hotel, and almost ran into people several times, but made it back in one.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> homecoming, round 2.

Vanessa couldn't concentrate the entire day at work, even as she sat in a surveillance van with Atwater. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, and she couldn't stop craning her head to look out the windows.

"Got a hot date?" Kev asked, giving her an amused look.

"Hailey's coming home today," she said. He brightened instantly. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, she texted me to give me the heads up."

"Did you hear anything about how the case went?" 

Since it was a case involving the trial of a federal agent, the results weren't exactly publicized to the general public. Vanessa had tried to find details about the case but the only news site that seemed to have reported on it gave the case one sentence within another article. _'The trial of an FBI agent moved to jury deliberations early this afternoon.'_

"No, nothing."

"Hopefully they got him. Hailey needs the peace of mind."

Vanessa couldn't agree more.

* * *

She was just about to sit down for dinner when the front door opened and Hailey walked in, carrying her suitcase in one hand and a dripping umbrella in the other. Vanessa sprang up from the island and bounded over, throwing her arms around the blonde, even though she was drenched from the torrential downpour outside. 

"I'm glad you're back!"

"Me too," Hailey said, laughing a little as she pulled herself out of Vanessa's grip. "You're happy to see me."

"It's been boring around here," Vanessa admitted, stepping back to allow Hailey more room "I'm just glad for some company."

Hailey pulled off her shoes and proceeded farther into the house, dropping her keys in the basket. "House is still intact," she observed, as Vanessa returned to her food. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Me and Kev slept together."

The words tumbled out without her meaning them to, and she instantly regretted even opening her mouth in the first place. Hailey raised her eyebrows. "Not in my bed, I hope."

"What, no-" Vanessa spluttered, blushing furiously. Did they? She couldn't remember where they'd ended up, just remembered his lips trailing over her skin, and his arms around her, and... the feeling soft blankets on her back. Blue blankets.

Well, shit.

"You did not."

"Maybe?" Vanessa said sheepishly. "It's hard to remember exactly, it was a lot-"

"Please, just stop talking," Hailey said, holding up a hand, laughing a little. "I don't need the details of how many times you and Atwater did the deed, or where, or what it was like, I'm just glad you said something before I went to bed."

"I'll wash your sheets," Vanessa offered weakly, almost afraid to meet her friend's gaze.

"That's probably a good idea."

She chanced a look up from her plate and immediately regretted it, seeing the amused glimmer in Hailey's eyes. "You're gonna tease me about this forever, aren't you?"

"You'd better believe it. Having sex with Kev is one thing, but in my bed? You should've seen this coming from a mile away," Hailey teased. "But hey, whatever works for you, I guess. Just don't do it again."

"What about you and Jay?"

Immediately, Vanessa wished she could take those words back.

"Me and Jay are not the same as you and Atwater, Vanessa," Hailey said, her voice almost icy now. "It's nothing like that."

"You're right, I shouldn't have brought it up," Vanessa said quickly, scrambling frantically for something to say, something to get out of this awful hole she'd just dug herself. "Um, did you eat dinner yet? There's some stir-fry in the pan, if you want some."

"I'm okay."

Vanessa cleared her throat. "I'll go change your sheets," she said, and headed upstairs. Hailey said nothing as she passed.

Once she was upstairs, Vanessa let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was so _stupid_ for even bringing Jay into the conversation, when she knew that whatever was between him and Hailey was different from anything she'd ever seen. She shouldn't have pushed. Hailey had enough to think about without being asked about the status of her relationship with Jay.

She quickly went to the cabinet in the bathroom and rummaged around until she found the other set of sheets she knew Hailey used on her bed, and then headed into the hallway.

She couldn't help but pause in the doorway of Hailey's room. She'd only been inside twice.

Once to wake Hailey up from a nightmare. And once, well...

The walls were a pale greyish blue. Other than the disheveled sheets on the bed, the room was almost perfectly in order. Everything on the shelves was very clearly well-thought out, from the way the books were aligned to what color the knickknacks were. There was a picture on the nightstand that had the entire unit on it, all of them laying on the floor of the bullpen after a particularly long day. 

Overall, the entire atmosphere of the room was very much Hailey. 

Vanessa forced herself to stop snooping and moved toward the bed, quickly stripping off the old sheets and replacing them with the new ones. Then she went back downstairs, steeling herself for the telling-off that she was sure she deserved.

But she found Hailey sitting at the island, with two bowls of ice cream in front of her. She slid one over when she heard Vanessa's footsteps on the stairs. "How about we don't talk about men, and talk about something else?" she offered. A truce. 

Vanessa nodded. "No talking about boys," she promised. "Tell me about the food in New York. I've heard some of it can be good."

"Not their pizza," Hailey said immediately.

"Wow, you really do have something against their pizza, don't you?" Vanessa laughed.

"Let's just say I'm not a huge fan. Their waffles, though..."

* * *

Hailey stayed up long after Vanessa went to bed. 

She didn't want to go up to her room and confront sleep again. She was afraid- who was she going to see next? Vanessa? Ruzek? She didn't think she could take being stabbed by someone else that she loved.

So she didn't sleep. She made some tea, sat on the couch, and put in a Star Wars movie. And when that movie was done, she put in another, and another. She kept checking her phone every few minutes, half-hoping that Jay would call her, but he didn't. 

At around five in the morning, she did get a text, one that left her with her mind spinning.

**_Voight: Come in early. My office._ **

She definitely couldn't get any rest after that. 

Nothing good ever happened in that office- to her, at least. 

She could feel that odd pressure building up in her chest again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/20/65/8f/20658fc717cdd5e49042abd13d208970.jpg
> 
> hailey's room, at least part of it. on the wall on the left in the picture i imagine another row of shelves. 
> 
> https://www.digsdigs.com/photos/2012/10/a-fall-colored-bedroom-done-in-black-and-white-with-orange-touches-and-greenery.jpg
> 
> and this is the vibe of vanessa's, not as closely matched to what's in my head.
> 
> also, i wasn't planning on rowater being in this, but it just happened, and i'm not mad ;)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a confrontation, of sorts.

Jay walked into the bullpen just in time to see Hailey emerge from Voight's office, looking a little shell-shocked.

He immediately went to her. "What did he want?" he demanded.

"Just to talk," she said, but her voice was shaky and he knew that whatever they'd talked about wasn't that simple. "About the case."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, he just... he wanted me to tell him what was going on. What happened in court, what's been happening with me. Everything."

"And?"

Hailey exhaled, running a hand over her ponytail. "I told him. He asked me if I'd been sleeping, and I just... I didn't have the energy to lie to him, so I told him about the nightmares, and the panic attacks."

Jay wanted so desperately to hold her, to comfort her, but she continued talking, almost mechanically.

"He took my badge, and my gun."

_"What?"_

"He thinks I need therapy. Medication. Something. He told me I should go to Dr. Charles, get a diagnosis. Said he was putting me on leave until further notice."

Part of Jay was glad that someone was at least recognizing that she shouldn't be working, not like this. She looked practically dead on her feet, and Jay knew that even little things could trigger a reaction from her. He'd even started to figure out some of them. Knives. Coffee. Even kitchens seemed to set her on edge.

But to take her job away from her like that, without warning? 

That was cruel, even for Voight.

"Hailey-" Jay reached out, but she pulled away. 

"I just need some space, Jay," she said. "Just... just don't come after me, at least for a little bit, okay?"

He didn't want to agree, but her eyes were pleading. Desperate.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

And then she walked away. Seeing her without her badge at her side was strangely unsettling. She looked vulnerable now without it, and Jay had to stop himself from following her out, and walking with her.

Instead, he turned around and stalked into Voight's office.

* * *

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded, slamming the door shut behind him so forcefully that the glass rattled in its frame. 

Voight straightened in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "What was what for?"

"You know what. Taking her badge from her like that, without warning, without really giving her a choice? You play dirty, but I never thought you'd play this dirty," Jay snapped. "You could have at least given her a chance to try and figure it out on her own."

"Why should I have? She's had weeks, no, months, to get herself together, and in case you haven't noticed, the only thing it's gotten is worse. Don't come in here and pretend you know what's best for this unit, Halstead, because you are not the sergeant in charge here,' Voight growled. 

Jay could feel his ears starting to get warm- a sure sign of just how angry he really was. "And you do?"

"What did you just say?"

"You think you know what's best for the unit? You're the one who sent her to New York by herself, without backup, without a choice. She went there because she _trusted you,_ she trusted that you wouldn't send her anywhere without making sure it was okay first. She's in this position because of you. What happens next is on you, not her."

Voight was standing up now, leaning across the desk, his face a thundercloud. "I did what I thought was best. She needed to learn that bending the rules has consequences, and the FBI was the perfect place to do so."

"We've all bent the rules. All of us. I've done it. Ruzek's done it, Antonio did it. Why is Hailey so different?"

"She was heading down a path that she didn't belong on."

"And you think she belongs on this one? She doesn't deserve this!" Jay was shouting now. "How can you look her in the eye and take her badge away when you _know_ that the reason that all of this is happening is because you sent her to New York in the first place?"

Voight slammed his hand on the desk. "Do you think wanted this? I didn't plan for this, no one did!"

"The least you could do is make an attempt to help her through it, but no. You kick her out of the unit and tell her to get help and expect her to come back all nice and perfect, because that's what you want, isn't it? Forget about taking people under your wing and mentoring them. You want perfect detectives who look good for the press and listen to you without asking questions and follow whatever rules you put into place."

Jay knew he was toeing a dangerous line now, but he couldn't stop himself.

"You used to be the one who would bring in the rejects, the people who no one believed in because they had too much baggage. And now look at you. You throw away the things you don't think look nice enough, who maybe have a little damage, just because it'll make you look bad, and ruin the reputation you've built for yourself. You're afraid that someone will see you for who you really are- a dirty cop."

"Get out of my office."

"You know I'm right."

"Get. OUT!"

* * *

Jay found Hailey sitting on the bench in a park, just staring at the ground in front of her. She looked up when she heard his footsteps, relaxing when she realized it was just him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, scuffing the toe of her boot on the ground. "Don't you have a case?"

"I might have yelled at Voight," Jay confessed.

She gave him a reproachful look. "You didn't."

"I did. He needed to hear it."

Hailey shook her head. "You don't need to defend me all the time. I can handle myself."

"I know. I just... I've been thinking about doing that for a while. Not just because of you. He needed a wake-up call. I gave it to him. I'm not ashamed of that."

They sat in silence for a moment, watching a mother try and wrangle her two small boys into her car. Jay kept sneaking sideways looks at Hailey. She kept rubbing her wrist, but he wasn't sure if she noticed when she did that anymore. 

"You gonna be okay?" he asked her, bumping her shoulder. 

"I don't know," she said, looking at him with damp eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore, without my badge. I don't know what I'm supposed do. I can't go to work. I'm afraid of what Dr. Charles will say, if I go there. I feel exposed, like Voight just stripped off everything about myself I've ever known."

"I'm sorry, Hails."

"It's okay."

"It's really not."

She gave him a smile, albeit a forced one. "I guess I've known for a while that I needed to do something about it. This just forces me into it, more than I wanted to be."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"That's not true, and you know it. If I don't go to Dr. Charles..."

Jay knew what happened to cops who had problems like Hailey's who refused to get treatment. The police force was generous with cops going leave for mental health, but the rules were clear- without a signature from a therapist saying that she was good to get back in, after a while, she would be discharged from the service.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything that would comfort her, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket. Burgess.

**_Caught a case. Come back._ **

"I'm sorry-"

"You have to go."

Jay reluctantly stood, giving Hailey one last look.

"I'll be okay."

He didn't believe that, not really, but he left anyway, and spent every step he took away from her wishing that it was in the other direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of your comments, keep it up, they're so thoughtful and inspiring :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hailey struggles with being on leave.

Hailey felt empty, like everything had been sucked out of her body.

She didn't know what to do with herself. From the time she'd graduated the academy until now, her future had never been so unclear. She was used to waking up every day and going into work and solving cases. Free time was almost a foreign concept to her. Even around the holidays, when she wasn't technically at the precinct, there was always evidence to think about, paperwork to fill out... sometimes they were even pulled out of their Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas parties to tackle a new case.

But now she had nothing to keep her mind occupied with. Nothing to keep her mind from going back to every horrible thing that had ever happened to her.

The first few days, Hailey spent most of the time at home, trying to pull herself together into some semblance of a human being. She slept, or at least she tried to. Most of the time she ended up staring at her ceiling, on the verge of a panic attack. She cleaned, starting in her room and ending with the downstairs. She read, which helped her keep her mind from drifting, and watched the entire Star Wars saga. 

After five days at home, Hailey was going a little crazy.

She wanted to be back in the field, with the others. Her friends. She was lonely and bored stuck in the house with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Jay called every lunch break he had, but even those didn't help. She still wasn't sleeping well, and had almost no appetite. 

Six days after she lost her badge, Hailey found herself standing in the waiting room in Med's psych unit, in one of those unfriendly, hard plastic chairs. She kept playing with the hair tie around her wrist, unwilling to look up at the doctors and nurses that kept coming through. She knew a lot of them- if not most of them- from asking them to consult on cases. She didn't want their pity.

"Hailey?"

She blinked, and suddenly Dr. Charles was standing in front of her, with that almost too-friendly face of his. 

"Dr. Charles," she said, standing up and shoving her hairtie into her jacket pocket. 

"What brings you down here? I didn't see a request for a file, although it's quite possible that I missed an email-"

"No," Hailey said quickly. "I- I'm not working."

Dr. Charles raised his eyebrows. "Then you must be here to see a friend, what's their name-"

Hailey just wished he would stop trying to figure out why she was there and _know,_ so that she didn't have to say it out loud and make it real. She didn't want to have to prove Voight right, but she knew there was no other way to go back to Intelligence without proving to him that she was okay, that she didn't need therapy or medicine or a diagnosis...

He was looking at her expectantly, and she realized he'd just asked her a question.

"I'm not here for a friend," she said finally, swallowing the lump growing in her throat. "I'm here because Voight won't give me my badge back until I've spoken to you."

Dr. Charles didn't even seem surprised. She wanted to punch him, as he just smiled at her and nodded. "I have a few minutes until my next consult. I'd be happy to talk to you in my office."

* * *

"So, Hailey, tell me about this Voight situation," Dr. Charles said once he'd settled in his chair.

"I came back from New York about a week ago," Hailey said, seated across from him, unconsciously playing with the hairtie again. "I was there to testify about a case. When I got back, he called me into his office and told me he was putting me on leave, and that he wouldn't let me back in Intelligence until you signed off."

"Why would he do that?"

"He thinks that I need help."

The words were sour on Hailey's tongue. She hated them, how they hung in the air like cloud even long after she'd said them. 

"Why would he think that?"

"I don't know," she said. 

Dr. Charles didn't say anything, just kept looking at her with his oddly piercing eyes. She looked away, down at her lap, so that she wouldn't keep having to look at him. He kept making her feel like was in trouble, even though she knew she'd done nothing wrong. 

"I haven't been sleeping well," she confessed finally, just to break the heavy silence that filled the room, just to hear something other than the incessant ticking of the clock above his head. 

"Everyone has trouble sleeping sometimes. Why would this concern Voight?"

"It's not sometimes."

"How often is it?"

"Every time I close my eyes. I can't escape it, no matter how much I try, because I need to sleep, and I know I need to, but when I try it's just... I can't turn my mind off. And when I do get to sleep, the dreams wake me up almost immediately."

"Dreams?" Dr. Charles asked, frowning. "What kind?"

"About New York, mostly. About my dad, sometimes. But mostly about New York."

Hailey didn't know how Dr. Charles was doing it. Somehow, like he was pulling on a string, words were coming out of her mouth even though she didn't want them to. 

_Doctors,_ she thought. _They interrogate people just as much as we do, but there are no rules._

"And what happened in New York?"

"An FBI agent assaulted me in the apartment I was staying in and threatened to kill me, and a few days after that, he came back, drugged me, and tried to kill me," she said, and she was surprised that the words came out almost effortlessly, without her even having to think about them. "I think about it all the time, and I don't want to, I really don't. It just happens, and I can't stop. I keep reliving it, like it's on a loop. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hailey."

She tried not to roll her eyes, and forced herself to look at him.

"It sounds like you're having the same struggles a lot of police officers have. You're not the first to come into my office talking about an incident that happened at work-"

"It didn't happen at work."

Dr. Charles nodded. "Or at home, or someplace like home. I know that this must be a frightening time for you, Hailey, so I will tell you this now. PTSD is nothing to be ashamed of-"

Hailey shook her head. "I don't have PTSD."

"Maybe not," Dr. Charles said quickly. "But you're exhibiting some of the symptoms. As a result, I'd like to meet with you again in the next few days to talk about this more, and possibly discuss some medications you could take to prevent what you're experiencing from getting out of hand."

"But I don't have PTSD-"

"I have no way of knowing that now, in our ten-minute talk. I'm very glad you approached me, Hailey, it shows a lot of character. I have a consult in five minutes, but I'd like to schedule another meeting with you, just so that you have some things to help you cope with these issues. Come back here in two days, at two o'clock."

He handed her a post-it note with the date and time on it. She took it automatically, staring at it blankly even after Dr. Charles hurried out of the room, the four letters he'd said echoing in her mind-

PTSD.

He couldn't be right- she didn't have PTSD. PTSD was something that happened because of shootings, and bombs, and abductions. Not what happened to her. Dr. Charles wasn't right. She refused to believe that he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was kind of hard to write Dr. Charles since I don't watch Med, but I've noticed that he seems to adjust how he talks to patients to get a response. I hope how he interacted with Hailey makes sense!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it wouldn't be a good story if the journey were easy.
> 
> check end notes for trigger warning. this is very angsty, so be careful, my friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for not posting earlier today, i had to do a social media takeover and it was frankly quite draining...

Hailey met with Dr. Charles twice in the span of five days, not by choice. 

The psychiatrist had put up a friendly front in their first encounter, but after that, she found that he was as relentless and irritating as she'd expected. He kept pushing all of the buttons that she did not want to be pushed, making her talk about the things that she would prefer that no one knew about, somehow weaseling it out of her anyway.

So this was how her suspects felt in interrogation, she thought bitterly. 

She hated it.

And she hated the medication he'd prescribed at the end of their second meeting. She knew that it was supposed to make her feel better, to be able to function more, but she didn't want it. Having medicine meant there was something wrong with her. 

And that was the worst part about all of it, was that there was something wrong.

Hailey had known it for a while, she just didn't want to believe it. Now that she was meeting with Dr. Charles, she couldn't keep brushing it under the rug anymore. Not when he kept dragging her memories out again.

People always said that recognizing there was a problem was the first step to recovery, but it didn't feel like it. Her nightmares kept getting worse, if that were even possible. But ever since she'd started therapy, and started taking antidepressants, she couldn't even fight back in her dreams. She was forced to stand there, paralyzed, as figures with knives cut her open, or poured sticky, thick beer down her throat.

Her waking hours were less comforting now than they had been before she'd started therapy. She didn't know if it was the drugs, or the talking, or what it was, but she felt.... detached, as if she were staring at the world from the other side of a thick pane of glass. It was hard to even focus on holding a conversation with someone- she kept tuning out, her attention drawn to every little noise that she heard that wasn't the other person speaking to her.

She could feel herself pulling away. Even when a flashback hit her, she couldn't even manage the energy to react, to scream, to cry. Nothing. She was just so tired of it all, tired of reliving the same night over and over again, tired of the pitying glances and dreams of blood. 

Her friends could see it happening. She could tell. Jay's visits became more and more frequent, and Even Atwater stopped by and played Mario Kart with her for hours. Despite those distractions, she still felt hollow, like someone had carved her mind and her soul, leaving nothing behind. 

She knew she was losing control, even though she was gripping the controls as tightly as she could, trying to hold on to every piece of herself that she could, and yet she was still slipping. 

And she realized she was _scared._ She didn't want for things to end like this, she didn't want to be a washed-up cop stuck in her memories. She wanted to run through bullets with Ruzek, she wanted to make more ice cream floats with Vanessa, and go on long walks with Kim, and play more Mario Kart with Atwater. 

But she didn't know how to do that anymore.

* * *

Will was so absorbed in heading to his next consult that he almost missed it completely. He was halfway to the next room when he turned around, the anxious feeling building in his chest he felt every time that someone from the 21st District showed up at Med. 

The feeling only grew when his mind finally registered the scene in front of him. It was someone from the 21st District- not just a random cop, but Hailey, Jay's _partner,_ and there blood, so much that it was dripping on the floor. She looked at Will with an odd expression on her face, confused and impossibly rational at the same time. 

"Hailey?" Will's mind was whirling a mile a minute. When was the last time he'd heard from Jay? Had Maggie said anything about a mass casualty? Maybe his phone rang and he didn't know. "What's going on?"

"I cut myself," she said, and her voice was eerily calm.

The part of Will that wasn't occupied with worrying about Jay, the doctor part, instantly assessed the situation, and how, even though Hailey's free hand was holding her wrist, the blood was coming from it at an alarming pace. 

"What happened?" he asked, as he quickly took Hailey's already blood-soaked hand and replaced it with the nearest towel he could find. She watched him with a curious tilt to her head.

Her whole aura was... off. Even though, Will, who hadn't really _met_ her, could tell that much. In hindsight, he probably should have made an effort to at least get to know who was watching his brother's six. But despite that lack of connection between them, he was still a good judge of people, and she was not behaving normally. She seemed like she was in a weird state of shock (unsurprising, due to the amount of blood she'd probably lost by now) and... was it _relief?_

"I think... I think I was trying to feel something," she said. 

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Hailey said, shaking her head. "I've been trying so hard to stay in control, and I just... I don't know. I guess I couldn't take it anymore, I needed something to remind me."

"Of what?" Will asked, but he was beginning to understand. He'd seen cases like this before, of people who realized they were slipping from reality and did something to snap out of it. Something that usually ended in them getting hurt, or even dying. 

"That I can feel things."

He'd started cleaning the cut as she talked, thinking, as he grabbed the suture kit from the nearest drawer. He noted old scar tissue just visible through the fresh cut on Hailey's wrist.

If he were a betting man, he would have bet that whatever had caused that injury had been the one to start the spiral he was all-too familiar with. 

"I know what you're thinking," Hailey said, staring at him with startlingly clear blue eyes. "You're thinking you need to page Dr. Charles, because I just tried to kill myself."

"Hailey-"

"And I'm sure protocol dictates you should. I know that's not your fault. I just... I didn't do it because I wanted to die."

"Hailey, I know."

When Will looked up from closing the wound, there was moisture in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "I know it's strange, but the last few days I could feel myself slipping away, and I couldn't think of any other way to stop it, and I know that to some people, it's not going to make sense. But I felt like there was nothing else I could do, to get rid of the fogginess."

"I think he might," Will told her. "Whatever you're going through... Jay knows what it's like, to live in those shadows."

Hailey swallowed, looking down at the new cut on her wrist, now neatly stitched back together. "Are you going to tell anyone about this?"

"Dr. Charles will come in a few minutes, after I've paged," Will said, as gently as he could. "I'm concerned about the medications he's prescribed, that we might need to try something else. That will only take a few minutes."

He hesitated for a moment, weighing his next words. "I can't hide something like this from Jay," he said finally. "He's my brother, and he'll know if I'm keeping things from him. Especially if it's about someone he cares about as much as he cares about you."

Hailey seemed to accept that, her shoulders falling slightly as she let out a breath.

Will hated to leave her there, but his pager kept beeping, even more insistently than it had been before he even saw Hailey. "I hope you know that things will get better," he said, feeling like he needed to say something, anything, to lift some of the massive weight that seemed to rest on the detective's shoulders. "They did for Jay, and they will for you. It may take some time, but you want to live. I can tell from your eyes. And you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the warning: hailey cuts her wrist, and there are lots of hits to depression, and suicide.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a kinda short but jam-packed chapter... some milestones are achieved ;)

Jay was just about to go to the break room for another cup of coffee when his phone lit up with a notification from Will.

**_Hailey came in to Med today. She's home now,  
but I thought you'd want to know._ **

Instantly, Jay was wide awake, his coffee forgotten in a heartbeat. "Rojas, can I borrow your house keys?" he asked, trying to stay calm, but his heart felt like it had just dropped to the bottom of his chest. 

To her credit, she didn't ask, just tossed the keys at him without saying anything.

Jay was out the door and in the car before he could even think. He stopped just long enough to send a thank you to his brother before shoving his key into the ignition and peeling off down the street. 

Inside, his mind was spinning. Was it something serious? Was she sick, or had something happened at the house? Why hadn't she called? He should have asked Will for details, but it was too late now, he was almost there.

Before he knew it, his keys were in the door to the house, and he shoved it open. 

Hailey was standing at the kitchen sink, washing something, he didn't know what, but turned when she heard the door open. In one moment, Jay was by her side, holding her at arm's length away from him, looking her up and down, looking for something, anything, and then his eyes caught the white bandage around her wrist.

"I'm okay," she said, before he his eyes even found hers. 

"I thought- when Will texted-"

"I'm okay," she repeated. 

He pulled her in close, wrapping her tightly in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. The pounding in his chest that started the moment he'd read his brother's text was starting to fade now as he held Hailey, breathing in that vanilla scent that seemed to follow her everywhere, and he felt like he could breathe again. 

"I'm okay," she told him again, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Just because you say that doesn't mean I'm going to stop, you should know that by now."

They stood there for just a few minutes longer before Jay let her go, one hand still on her back as he took a good look at her again. Her skin was still ghostly pale, but there was a spark in her eyes that had disappeared when Voight took her badge away from her. She looked more honed in, more alert.

"What happened?" he asked, almost afraid of what she'd say.

She glanced down at her wrist before meeting his gaze again. "I don't know," she said finally. "I felt like I was watching myself through glass, or something. And I remember closing my eyes for just a moment and then when I opened them, there was a knife in my hand, and I was bleeding."

Jay opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "It's not that, it's not what you think. I'm almost certain. I just... I wanted to feel again, you know? I wanted the numbness to go away. It probably doesn't make sense, but..."

And he couldn't be angry, or disappointed, because what she was saying really did make sense to him. He'd been there, in her shoes. He'd gone through the nightmares, the panic attacks, the flashbacks, all of it. 

Sometimes it just took a wake-up call.

He realized that she was expecting him to say something. She looked almost afraid of what his response was going to be. "I get it," he told her earnestly. "You don't have to explain, Hailey, not to me."

"I thought you'd be upset," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Not at you. Never at you."

And suddenly she was crumbling in front of him, and he swept her up before she could fall apart, one hand on her back, the other in her hair. She wasn't crying. He suspected that there were no more tears for her to cry, that this was something else, exhaustion and shock and relief all at the same time. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, so light he wasn't sure if she noticed, and contented himself with knowing that she was here, and she was _okay._

* * *

Vanessa came in later that night to find the two of them sitting on the couch, playing Mario Kart. Jay was Koopa Troopa and Hailey was toad, and both were so intensely focused on the race that they hadn't even heard her come in. 

She drank in the sight of her roommate with color in her cheeks and a smile on her face, half-afraid that this wasn't real, that this was some sort of fluke, but then she saw just how _happy_ Jay was, and she knew. This wasn't a temporary thing. He hadn't looked this content in weeks, ever since Voight put Hailey on leave. Scratch that- he hadn't looked like this ever since Hailey left for New York, the first time. There'd been a cloud across his face that darkened the worse his partner got.

But now- now things were different. The room felt lighter, somehow. Less heavy.

She couldn't help but stand in the doorway for a minute, watching the two of them shove each other every time one of them passed the other. This had been a long time coming, she thought. She'd missed hearing them laugh- both of them. 

It was a nice change.

She let herself stay there for just a minute longer before heading back out the door, her phone already out of her pocket, with Kevin's name on the screen.

"They okay?" was the first thing he asked when he picked up.

"Yeah. Better than okay. She's _happy,_ Kev."

"Finally."

"Mind if I come over?"

"I'll pick you up."

In no time at all, they were back at Kevin's apartment, and his lips on were on hers, scorching hot, as he picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. Whatever lingering worries about Hailey that had stayed in the back of her mind were burned away by the feeling that Kevin left behind on her body with every touch and every kiss. They shed their clothes without even needing to think about it, falling into bed, clinging to each other almost desperately, and Vanessa felt like she was on fire. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i guess the morning after, but it's not what you'd usually think of when using that terminology

That night, the nightmares, for once, didn't come. 

Instead, she woke up the next morning, feeling warm and calm and content, for the first time in what felt like an eternity. They'd slept on the couch, not in her bed, because that felt too intimate, somehow, even though there were very little boundaries between her and Jay that they hadn't crossed by now. Ever since New York, she'd spent more nights than she could count in his arms. 

But even those nights were usually plagued by blood, or coffee, or something terrible that sent her stumbling out of his grip, gasping for air.

Today she woke up tucked into Jay's side, with his arm around her, and the panic wasn't there. It felt strange to open her eyes and not feel like her lungs were trying to strangle her from the inside, but it was nice.

Her mind still felt fuzzy from before, but, according to Dr. Charles, the previous medication wouldn't completely leave her system for a few more days. Even so, she could still tell that there was a difference. 

She didn't really understand what happened yesterday, didn't know what had driven her to pick up that knife and cut her wrist, but it changed _something,_ and that was promising.

She didn't want to leave the warmth of Jay's embrace. Selfishly, she wanted to stay here forever, even though she knew he probably needed to go home and get ready to go to work, but she was so comfortable, and so tired.

So Hailey let herself drift off again, lulled by the rise and fall of Jay's chest, and, for the first time in a long time, she was not afraid.

* * *

Jay woke up slowly, far slower than he usually woke up on a normal day. His half-asleep brain took in the unfamiliar (well, less familiar) walls and photos on the mantelpiece with a hint of concern before he remembered that he was at Hailey's house, not his. 

Hailey was curled up in his arms, her head buried in his shirt, her blonde hair just a little ruffled from sleep. She looked peaceful, her face smooth. 

The sight felt so _right_ to Jay. He wished he could wake up every day to this.

He lazily checked the time, and then he was wide-awake. He had thirty minutes to get down to the district. Which meant he was going to have to wake Hailey up, whether he wanted to or not. He hated that he had to- he knew how rare a good night's sleep was for her lately. But he had almost no say in the matter.

So he gently reached out and started smoothing the hair away from her face, a strange lump forming in his throat as she stirred, leaning into his touch. "Hails, I have to go," he whispered. "Duty calls."

She let out a little huff, squinting up at him through bleary eyes. "I wish I could come with you."

"I know. Soon," he promised.

She reluctantly pulled out of his arms, sitting up on the edge of the couch and rubbing her eyes. He immediately missed the warmth, but knew it was his fault that Hailey woke up, anyway. "Did Vanessa ever come home?"

Jay vaguely remembered seeing her out of the corner of his eye while they were playing Mario Kart, but didn't remember catching sight of her any other time after that. He checked his phone, and he had a text from her.

**_glad to see everything's okay. going to kev's. don't  
do anything stupid._ **

"She went to Kev's."

"They've been doing that a lot recently."

"Yeah."

Jay debated for a moment if he should go home, or if he should just get ready for work from here. Hailey seemed to read his mind. "You can eat breakfast here, we have plenty of food. And I might have some clothes of my brother's that you could wear-"

"I have an overnight bag, but I'll take you up on the breakfast offer," Jay said. She smiled lightly at him before heading over to the kitchen, pulling out a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

He joined her a minute later to help fry eggs. They ate together sitting at the island, not saying much. Because Hailey was left-handed and Jay was right-handed, their arms occasionally bumped into each other when they went to take a bite, which made her laugh. So what if he started doing it on purpose sometimes?

Jay thought he could get used to this. But then he reminded himself that this, whatever it was, probably wouldn't stick. She was already starting to heal, and when she did, she wouldn't need him quite so much anymore.

Part of him, a horrible part of him, half hoped that she wouldn't get better, not yet, because that would mean that he could hold onto her just a little longer before letting her go. 

The other part eagerly awaited the day when she would return to work, so that he'd have his partner back, instead of rotating around with everyone else like a loner. He missed seeing her every day, and especially missed her smile, and her laugh. They'd been so rare for so long that he'd almost forgotten what they were like, but now he was hopeful that he'd get to experience both in full force sometime soon.

And maybe things would change between them.

He'd said those three words, even though neither of them had brought it up again. And he thought she might have wanted to say them, too, all those months ago in Med. So maybe there was a chance for them. 

Jay knew he'd wait for as long as it took for that chance. He hadn't realized it until now, but he wanted this more than he ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to wake up every morning with Hailey in his arms and he wanted to bump elbows with her at breakfast and play Mario Kart with her late into the night not just today, but every day of his life. He wanted to hold her hand walking down the street and know that it wasn't just for a cover, and he wanted to tell her "I love you" without having to imply it through other words.

"Jay."

He blinked, and realized that Hailey was giving him an odd look.

"Where'd you go?" she asked him curiously. "You really zoned out there for a minute."

"Just thinking. About what comes next," he said.

She nodded, turning her glass in her hands. "I've been thinking about that, too. Things are so different from what they were."

"Yeah," Jay agreed, wondering where this conversation was headed. He wanted to ask her about the strange bond that formed between them, a bond that was more than best friends but not quite a romantic relationship. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he was afraid. Afraid of what asking would mean for them, about what it would change. 

But that conversation deserved so much more than the five minutes he had before he had to leave for work.

So, despite how much he wanted to just blurt out his thoughts to her, he kept his mouth shut, and just gave her shoulder a squeeze before heading out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they've grown up so much by now look at my precious cinnamon rolls :) what are your thoughts? is hailey getting better?


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 30! can you believe it? i certainly can't. the end of this story is on the horizon...

Ever since changing medications, Hailey started having more good days, and less bad days. That didn't mean that there weren't days where she could barely get out of bed, or nights where she couldn't fall asleep because of the demons that plagued her. But there were less of them, and that was reassuring, because in between those days, there were ones where she couldn't breathe because she was laughing too hard, and days where she felt more alive than she had been before.

Talking to Dr. Charles got easier, too. Therapy felt less intrusive, like she had more control over what words came out of her mouth and what thoughts invaded her head. He really was a nice person, even though he was obnoxiously persistent.

She asked him after every session for his signature.

And after every session he said no.

That was the most infuriating thing about the man- he wouldn't approve her for duty again. She couldn't understand why. She felt good, she slept reasonably well, she talked about New York without suffering from panic attacks. 

What more did he want from her? She was doing everything she could to get back to the unit, to her friends, and yet he kept digging in his heels. 

Then, one day, as she sat talking to Dr. Charles, he reached under the desk and set a long, silver knife on top of the table.

Before she could even think, she was halfway across the room, standing by the door, eyes fixed on the weapon before her. "What are you doing?" she asked, without looking away from the knife, surprised at how calmly she managed to speak. 

"Pick it up."

"Are you crazy?!" Hailey exclaimed. 

"Pick it up, Hailey."

She shook her head. "I can't."

_Strong hands, pinning her to the ground-_

"Pick the knife up."

_Blood, dripping down her wrist-_

"I can't!"

And then Dr. Charles opened a drawer and put the knife away, looking at her with those piercing eyes of his. "That, Hailey, is why I'm not clearing you to return to your unit."

"You expect me to not freak out if you just pull a knife on me?"

"And you expect a criminal to be considerate of the fact that you can't look at a knife without relapsing back into the same flashbacks you had before. Yes, you've managed to get a handle on some aspects of your trauma, but this-" he motioned toward the drawer. "This will get you killed. If you were anyone else, I would probably say you're fine to go to work. But you're a police officer. You can't avoid knives and coffee and abusers forever, Hailey."

"Who says I'm avoiding them?" she challenged, her jaw set. 

He glanced toward the drawer. "That test. Until you can prove to me that you can handle yourself around the things that trigger you, I will not sign your papers. I'm not doing this to spite you. I'm doing this to keep you safe."

She shook her head, wiping angry tears out of her eyes. "But I can do it." The words sounded weak, even to her ears.

Dr. Charles just gave her a little smile. "You probably could do it, for as long as it took to get some kid from some gang to pull a knife on you. And then you would learn that you couldn't, and by that time, it would be too late."

"I've used a knife since New York."

"When it's your choice, yes. I'm not concerned about you when you're in a space that you can control. It's the situations that you can't that worry me."

"Dr. Charles, I need this," Hailey said, and she knew she was begging, but she couldn't help herself. "I need to go back to work."

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Vanessa was upstairs in her room trying to organize her closet when Hailey came home from therapy. The door slammed so loudly that the windows rattled in the frames, and instantly the Latina knew that therapy hadn't gone well.

She debated staying in her room and calling Jay, but that would be selfish. 

So she went downstairs, just in hear to watch the mug that had been sitting on their counter shatter into a hundred pieces. "Hey, hey, Hailey, take a breath!" Vanessa said, hurrying over to her roommate, who was leaning over the sink, gripping the edges so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"I'm fine," Hailey said, turning away from Vanessa. "It's fine."

"It doesn't sound fine."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

The blonde's shoulders stiffened, and there was a long, heavy pause before she turned around, arms crossed over her chest. "Dr. Charles won't clear me because he thinks I can't handle myself."

Vanessa didn't know if she was surprised or not. Yes, Hailey improved a lot over the last few weeks, they both knew that PTSD never ended. But her heart ached for her friend. Hailey had been working so hard to get well enough to return to Intelligence, but every time she felt like she was making progress, something would happen and knock her confidence down again. This was just another hurdle.

"He just wants to make sure you're safe," she said, as gently as she could. 

"It's just- I'm so sick of staying home and watching movies. I want to be with the unit again, and solve cases. I feel so useless just sitting here trying not to think about anything."

"I don't blame you. And it'll happen soon- you're improving so much. And I'm sure he sees that, too. But it's better to be careful than to rush it and get someone injured."

Hailey let out a deep breath. "I know, it's just... it's hard, you know?"

"Yeah, of course I know. I want you to come back. Everyone misses you. I miss you. And soon you'll be back and running with us just like before, and it'll be just as much fun then as it would have been tomorrow. What does a week, or two weeks, mean in the long-term? Nothing."

Vanessa took a chance at a smile, and Hailey gave a thin one in return. "Now, I was thinking of going out for ice cream," she said. "Are you coming?"

Hailey rolled her eyes at Vanessa's obsession with the dessert, but followed the Latina to the hallway anyway. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let's pick up the action, shall we?

Despite Vanessa's attempts to make Hailey feel better, it was still hard. Every week she went to Dr. Charles, he came up with _something_ to throw her off. One session he pulled out a cup of coffee and set it in front of her, on another he called the doctor that treated her in the emergency room. 

She hated it. She hated not being in control, hated the affect that these things had on her.

At least she could stand being in the same room as a the smell of coffee now. And she could look at the knife without having a panic attack, but the thought of holding one again nauseated her. So many bad things had come from that.

It was more than a month since Dr. Charles first turned the notion of Hailey going back to work down, and she was starting to wonder if she was ever going to be well enough to return to Intelligence.

The first time she realized that, she spent the entire night curled up in her bed, trying desperately not to cry.

She couldn't imagine not being a detective for the rest of her life. She didn't think she could live in this weird in-between state forever. Eventually she would have to give up on her title as a detective... and then what? What was she supposed to do with herself then? She'd never thought she'd grow up to be anything but a police officer, but now even that seemed to be slipping through her fingers.

Hailey tried not to let that bother her. Whatever happened would happen, and it would be okay.

There was still a voice in the back of her head that said _if you don't go back to the 21st, Jay will get a new partner._

And that was the worst part- thinking of Jay running through bullets with someone else by his side, someone that wasn't her. She hated knowing that he was doing that now, with Vanessa and Atwater as his pseudo-partners. How quickly would he forget about her if she never came back? How quickly would they all move on, just like they'd moved on when Olinsky died, or when Dawson left, or when Lindsay left?

As soon as her mind started down that path, her phone lit up with a text from Atwater.

**_Come down to the station, I'm gonna take you out for the best lunch of your life ;)_ **

And suddenly, her fears were put at ease again. 

* * *

Atwater took Hailey to his favorite lunch spot- a place that sold obscenely spicy chicken wings. She wasn't usually one to enjoy copious amounts of spice, but she couldn't exactly turn down her friend, especially when she saw how enthusiastic he was about taking her there. 

He didn't ask her about how she was doing, or about therapy, like most of the others from the unit probably would have. Including Jay. Hailey was grateful for that. Atwater was one of the only people who still treated her like he had before New York- like a little sister. 

They spent most of lunch chugging milk, after making the mistake of trying the spiciest wings on the menu. The experience overall was one of the worst eating experiences of Hailey's life, mostly because her mouth felt like it was on fire. Definitely not the best lunch of her life. But it was still nice, laughing at Atwater as he practically shoved his face into a glass of water.

Eventually, they recovered enough to eat Atwater's normal selection of wings, which, in comparison, were quite tame. 

Suddenly, Hailey heard tires squealing, and glanced out the window just in time to see a black SUV spin around the corner, with a machine gun pointed at the store. She saw the glass shatter before her instincts kicked in and she threw herself to the floor, tugging Atwater down with her, as bullets sprayed over their heads. 

"GET DOWN!" she shouted at the other customers, who were screaming. 

Her mind was working a mile a minute as she realized that they were raking the street, shooting at anything and everyone. And then she looked at Atwater, and saw that his button-down was covered in blood, with at least two bullets in his chest, struggling to reach his radio.

Somehow, she felt completely calm. In control. 

The SUV pulled out of view, and in one split second, Hailey made her choice. 

She hurried over to the store owner, who seemed unhurt behind the counter, and dragged him over to Atwater. "Put pressure, and call 911," she ordered, as she fumbled with the gun and radio on Atwater's belt.

"H-Hailey-" he choked, grabbing her hand. "Don't-"

"I have to, Kev. You know I do."

And then she stood, the radio already to her mouth. "This is 50-21 Henry, shots fired at the police, location is 557 East 75th, I'm an off-duty officer responding!" she shouted as she whipped open the door to the store, sprinting down the street toward the sound of more gunfire. "Send an ambo, we have an officer down!" 

* * *

This was the most alive she'd felt since before New York. Funnily enough, she knew she also had a very high probability of getting killed, or getting reprimanded by the Ivory Tower for responding even though she didn't have her badge. 

But people were dying. There wasn't really a choice- this was her duty. She knew it, and Atwater knew it, too. 

She paused at the corner, steeling herself before chancing a peek around the wall. 

The SUV was stopped in the middle of the street again, sending out a deadly spray of bullets. People were screaming, running. It was chaos, and she had almost no control, no backup for the moment, and no vest.

She thought about getting closer, but that was too risky.

She caught the glimpse of an arm sticking out the window. She raised the gun, Atwater's gun, and aimed, hoping against hope that she wouldn't miss, part of her knowing that the odds of her making this shot from this distance with a gun she'd never fired before was slim to none. 

But she fired anyway, and to her surprise, the hand holding the machine gun dropped it on the ground.

And then she was sprinting down the street, toward the van, as three figures bailed out. "50-21 Henry, I have three perps, two running West down the street, I'm in pursuit of the other down the alley!" she shouted into the radio as she dodged civilians, some of which tried to grab her as she passed, but she shoved past them. "Chicago PD, stop!"

She could hear sirens racing toward the scene as she followed the injured one down the alley. Even with a profusely bleeding arm, he was fast. She was grateful that she'd gone running while she'd been on leave, otherwise she definitely would not be in shape.

But she was definitely gaining. 

Hailey turned a corner a moment after the shooter did, stopping in her tracks.

They'd reached a dead end. Now that she was close enough to see his face, she realized that the shooter was young, eighteen at best, with a mop of dyed blue hair on the top of his head. 

"Chicago PD!" she shouted, stepping closer. "Turn around, and put your hands over your head!"

He turned, and looked at her with wide, scared eyes. And she realized that there was something silver in his hand. Not just something silver. A knife.

Dr. Charles's words suddenly echoed in her head. 

_You could probably do it, as long as it took to get some kid from some gang to pull a knife on you._

"Put the knife down," she said, and was surprised to find that her voice was completely steady. "I can help you, if you just put the knife down."

"You'll kill me," he choked out. 

"I won't, not if you kick the knife over to me. Then we can talk calmly, alright?"

"50-21 Henry, where's your location?" the radio in her hand crackled to life, and immediately the kid stiffened, raising the knife even higher. She silently cursed the radio, knowing that anything could escalate the situation. "Two suspects in custody."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. I just want to talk, okay? Put the weapon down!"

"They're going to kill me!"

"I'll tell them to stand down," Hailey said impulsively. She raised the radio to her mouth, her eyes still fixed on the kid. "This is 50-21 Henry, stand down."

The kid seemed to relax his stance a little. 

"Now, put down the knife," she urged. "Just put it down, and we can get you some help. That arm must hurt." That was an understatement- his arm was a mess of bone and blood, dripping onto the concrete. 

He took a step toward her, the knife at his side.

"STOP! CHICAGO PD!"

Hailey wheeled around to see two patrol officers halfway down the other side of the alley, their guns raised, and then in one moment, the full force of the kid's body slammed into her, and she could see the glint of silver in his hand.

Strangely, the panic she'd felt over the past few months didn't come as she wrestled with him, trying to get the upper hand. She didn't feel calm- that wasn't the right word. But her mind was present, not in that apartment in New York. This was different. This was now.

She felt something slash at her side, and reached around and grabbed hold of the kid's injured arm. She threw him to the ground, kicking the handle of the knife out of his hand as she aimed the gun down at him. "Don't move. It's over."

As she cuffed him, her eyes fell on the bloody discarded knife on the pavement, but she there was no anxiety, no pressure in her chest, no flashbacks. Nothing.

Maybe she was getting better, after all. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are definitely repercussions from the previous chapter.

Voight strode onto the scene, his eyes scanning the crowd of ambulances, civilians, and police for a familiar blonde head of hair. He eventually spotted her, sitting on the curb being treated by Sylvie Brett. 

"Upton," he said, striding over. She straightened immediately. 

He gave her a good, steady look. It had been a long time since he'd seen Hailey- they'd barely even texted after he took her gun and badge away. The most he knew came from updates from the members of Intelligence. Rojas told him the most- Jay still had a little bit of a chip on his shoulder after the confrontation in the office. 

He'd almost expected her to look ghost-like. He'd heard about her PTSD diagnosis and her cutting her own wrist with a knife, and assumed the worst. Although he'd never admit it, he'd even started looking for someone who could potentially fill her position.

But she looked healthy. Alive. Her cheeks were still flushed pink from her footchase, and her eyes were alert, but not overly so. Seeing her now reminded Voight of the first time they met, all those years ago in that bank.

"Sarge."

"You had good instincts there," he told her, sitting down next to her as Sylvie finished checking the narrow cut on Hailey's side. "It's hard to know what to do in that situation."

"I did what I had to."

"I know. And you did good, Hailey. Real good."

She let out a breath. "I know it's not going to change anything. It probably made things worse. I'm not supposed to be on active duty, I used someone else's weapon, I left a fellow officer behind..."

Voight shook his head. "If you hadn't done that, who knows how many more people would have died? Atwater is going to be alright. The ambulance got there quickly, and Will said they were clean shots. He's going to pull through."

"Am I going to have to call my lawyer for this? It's on the record, I used my own call sign-"

"Hailey, it's going to be okay. They know how many lives you saved. And I'll do everything within my power to make sure that this puts a good mark on your record, not a bad one. This isn't going to affect your career."

"Assuming I still have one by the time Dr. Charles lets me come back," Hailey said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice, watching more ambulances take off toward Med. 

"I think he will."

She turned to Voight, clearly debating whether or not she wanted to speak. Then she did. "I know I didn't appreciate it when it happened... but you made the right choice. Benching me. I was a liability, and I knew it, I just didn't want to admit it."

"I know."

"So I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. You didn't deserve that. And you didn't deserve Jay chewing you out for it, either. I never asked him to do that, I hope you know that."

Voight couldn't help but give her a little pat on the shoulder before he stood. "No hard feelings, Hailey. I know you meant well. And I needed that wake-up call from Halstead."

She frowned, squinting up at him. "I can't believe that."

"You should. And Hailey? Don't hold it against him, either. He does these things because he loves you."

With that, Voight walked away.

* * *

Voight's words stayed in Hailey's mind long after he'd left.

Jay loved her.

Hearing those words come out of her sergeant's mouth somehow made the whole thing seem... more real, somehow. Of course she'd heard Jay say "I love you" after the case in New York concluded. But she'd shoved that memory deep, deep down. She wasn't ready then to deal with that then- she was too wrapped up in her own mind to be able to even think of what that meant. 

Back then, she was just trying to make it through each day.

Now was different. Now, she felt like she could actually think clearly. She wasn't just trying to survive now- she was trying to _live,_ really and truly live. And she knew that the longer she kept pushing what was going on with her and Jay to the back of her mind, the harder it would be to do anything about it.

Hailey didn't want that to happen. She wanted to do something about it, she really did. She thought about saying those same words back to him so many times- in the diner, when he told her she had whipped cream on her nose; in the kitchen, when they made breakfast together; in the living room, when she woke up wrapped in his arms... 

But she was also scared of losing him.

What if everything changed? She didn't want him to get overly protective, like Ruzek. She wanted him the way he was, with all of his faults and all of his insecurities, all of him. She didn't want their partnership to change because of words they'd said to each other, she didn't want him to think he had to be something he wasn't for her.

She couldn't pinpoint the moment where she'd fallen in love with him. Maybe it was when they'd been stuck in the van, and bullets were raining down on them, and he'd wrapped her in his arms and made her feel safe even though she was anything but. Maybe it was when she saw him laying on the ground, a bullet in his chest, struggling to breathe. 

Or maybe she couldn't figure out when she knew she loved him because there was no moment in particular where she started falling because it was every moment, every raid, every chase, every night, every day she spent with him. The good and the bad. 

If telling him that meant that he would think he needed to be perfect for her all of the time, she didn't want that. She didn't want just the good parts of him, because that would only be a fraction of the reason why she loved him in the first place.

"Hailey!"

And then he was there, sweeping her up into his arms, and she decided that now wasn't the best time. It could wait just a little longer.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happens after...

Three days later, Hailey found herself in Dr. Charles's office again. She shut the door behind her, half-expecting there to be a knife on the table when she turned around, like there had been the past two meetings, but there was none. Instead, Dr. Charles sat there, hands folded together, giving her a look that she didn't recognize. 

"I hear you saw some action the other day," he commented as she sat opposite him. 

"Yes."

She wasn't entirely sure where he was going with this. 

"The shooting was all over the news," he continued. "Eight people killed, thirty-five injured. It must have been horrible for you. All that pain."

Hailey tried to remember what she'd felt in that moment, but all she could recall was feeling completely and utterly calm. At peace. In control. "I can't remember a lot of it," she confessed. "I wasn't thinking about that."

"What were you thinking about?"

She thought back to the moment she'd first seen the van speeding down the street, the gun poking out of one of the back windows. "Staying alive. Getting Kev medical attention. Stopping it. What I was going to do when I got outside, if I could aim a gun I'd never shot before. I heard people screaming, but... I don't know. It didn't make a difference."

"I thought about what you said about how I could handle myself until I saw a knife. It helped me, when that kid pulled one out."

"I'm glad to hear that, Hailey."

"For a moment, you were right. I almost couldn't handle it," she admitted, meeting his gaze. "But I did, because I knew I had to. I know I haven't fully come to terms with what happened in New York, but I don't think I ever will. Not in the way you want me to. And if that means you'll never let me go back to my unit then I guess that means I won't."

She looked away, feeling a lump growing in her throat at the thought of never stepping foot inside the 21st again, of Vanessa going off to work every day without her, of Atwater finding someone else to use as a weight when he did pull-ups...

"Do you have any regrets about all of this?" Dr. Charles asked.

"Giving up on my morals, not recognizing that I needed help earlier, lashing out at the people around me. Being too stubborn to acknowledge that I needed help. Not telling the people in my life how much they mean to me."

Hailey furiously wiped away at the tears that were starting to drip down her cheeks. 

"Those are all regrets that I think everyone has at some point in their life," Dr. Charles told her. He reached down, and she steeled herself for him to take out one more demon from her past, but instead, he pulled out a packet of papers. He turned to her, looking at her over his glasses, and she held her breath.

"You have made so much progress. From those regrets you listed, I noticed nothing that shows any lingering anger toward what happened to you, but rather at yourself, for how you handled the situation. You think you haven't come to terms with what happened in New York, but I think you have. And there is still time for you to go back and fix every single regret that still weighs you down."

He picked up his pen, pausing for a moment. "I'm going to sign this, Hailey, not because you're completely healed. You never will be, and I think you've come to that realization yourself. I'm signing this because I know that you'll do what it takes to get the job done, and you'll do what it takes to keep yourself in the right frame of mind for that job. You're on the right path, and I know you'll stay on it."

* * *

Hailey called Jay a few hours later. The moment he saw her name on the screen, he answered it, knowing what she was going to say- Voight had told everyone that day at the precinct- but he let her tell him anyway.

"I'm cleared."

The relief in her tone was palpable. Jay knew she'd been waiting for this for a long time- so long that she'd started to give up on ever coming back. He was just as happy as she was, even though he knew she'd come back eventually. She was too stubborn to let anyone, especially a psychiatrist, keep her from doing her job. 

"I'm so proud of you, Hailey."

"I thought he'd never let me come back," she confessed, and Jay could tell that that thought had weighed her down for months. She seemed like she was almost in shock that she was finally allowed to come back to work.

"I knew you would."

Hailey let out a breath. "I wanted to believe it, but..."

"I know."

And he did. He couldn't imagine what this journey had been like for her. Considering how long she'd struggled, he'd only been there by her side for a fraction of it. He couldn't imagine what every minute had been like, from that apartment in New York to sitting at the house by herself. He would have given up long before she did, if he was honest with himself. 

"Is Vanessa home?"

"No, she's helping Kev settle back into his apartment."

"Well, you shouldn't celebrate alone," Jay told her. "I'll come over, and we can make something, or order something."

"It's not a big deal," Hailey laughed. 

"Don't say that. We both know how hard this has been for you," Jay said seriously. "Now, what kind of waffles are you thinking? I'm going to need to bring some stuff over, because we both know that the only food in your house is ice cream."

* * *

There was a strange energy between them as they set about making their waffles. It wasn't quite tension, because that implied that there was something negative between them. This felt different. Strange.

Jay was determined to keep a smile on her face the entire night- and he succeeded, for the most part. He "accidentally" spilled some of the food coloring into his batter, turning his waffles an unnatural shade of blue. But while he'd done that on purpose, he really made her laugh when he managed to overfill the waffle iron, which sent huge globs of blue batter spilling out of the sides. 

Seeing her smile again reminded him of those three words he'd said to her so long ago. 

He hadn't brought it up again because there was always something else to think about- helping her feel better, catching criminals... but now it felt like they were finally out of obstacles. 

The thought was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. Part of him wanted to brush those three words back under the rug and forget that he'd ever said them.

But looking at her, cutting into her waffle with a sparkle to her eyes and whipped cream on her nose, reminded him of just how much he wanted this. He didn't want to take back what he'd said- he wanted to say it again, over and over again. 

She noticed him staring and turned on her stool to face him, seeming to steel herself to say something. 

"Hailey, I-"

"I want to say something."

They spoke at the same time, and Jay immediately motioned for her to continue. 

"I need to thank you," she told him, after a long glance. "For everything you've done. For this, and New York, and everything in between. I don't know how I'll ever repay the enormous debt I now owe to you."

Jay shook his head immediately. "You don't have to. We don't keep score, remember?"

"Even so. I just... I want you to know how much everything you did meant."

"I would do it again."

There was a long, heavy silence, where Jay wanted to speak but he couldn't find the words.

"Jay, what are we?" 

"We're partners," he said, but those words were weak, and they both knew it. 

"Is that all we are?" she whispered, looking at him with those piercing eyes of hers. 

"I don't know, Hailey. What do you want us to be?" 

He thought he might fall apart right there and then if the next words that came out of her mouth was that yes, the only thing she wanted them to be was partners. He almost couldn't look at her as he waited.

And she took a long time to answer. It felt like an eternity before she spoke again, and her voice was soft when she did. "I'm afraid," she said at last. "I'm afraid of this, of us, of what you said all those weeks ago. I don't want to lose this for something less. But I want it, I really do."

He let out a long breath. "I do, too."

Admitting that felt like an enormous weight lifted from his chest. "You mean so much to me," Hailey whispered, and her eyes were wet. Jay moved closer, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm afraid of what will happen if we do this. I don't know if I would survive, if this doesn't work."

"You won't lose me," Jay promised, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "No matter what."

"How can I be sure?"

"Because I love you."

And then they were kissing, and it was gentle and passionate and tender all at the same time. Her lips were unbelievably soft on Jay's, and tasted like waffle and tears and whipped cream. She clung to him almost desperately, arms wrapped around his neck, and he held onto her just as tightly.

After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart, breathless.

"I love you, too," Hailey said, and she meant it.

Jay didn't hesitate to kiss her again, picking her off the stool and spinning her around before setting her back down and pulling her in close, knowing that if it was up to him, he would never let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here is where i think i'll leave this story. not because i don't want to write it anymore, but because to me, their ending has never been as interesting as their journey, which is why i wrote this story starting where i started.
> 
> now it's up to you guys to imagine what's next, whether it's more angst, marriage, kids... and that's the beautiful thing about fiction. 
> 
> don't worry! i have another idea in mind, which i've been kind of thinking about ever since i started this. this definitely isn't the last you'll see of me here.
> 
> stay healthy!


End file.
